


On the Mend

by maychorian



Series: Dream, Seam [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, Families of Choice, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Past Brainwashing, Past Child Abuse, Past Emotional Manipulation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-16 09:18:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 52,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11825715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maychorian/pseuds/maychorian
Summary: Immediately after the Blade of Marmora rescues Lance from Zarkon, Thace begins the long effort of putting him back together.Includes art byartbymaryc.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I was just gonna write a one-shot from Thace's POV, because it felt really necessary. About 2000 words in, I realized that this ain't no one-shot. I have no idea how many chapters there will be, but Thace has a LOT of work to do to get Lance even somewhat functioning after everything he's been through. I'll update whenever there's more. Don't expect any kind of consistency.
> 
> Though this story happens chronologically before Sewing Patches, it would be a good idea to read that first for context, at least up to chapter six. 
> 
> Please please PLEASE go tell [artbymaryc](http://artbymaryc.tumblr.com) how amazing her art is. She went absolutely overboard, doing FOUR art pieces for a single little chapter, and I could not be more blown away. They are absolutely gorgeous and perfect, and they inspire me every time I look at them, which is often. You'll see.
> 
> Also thanks again, as always, to [cosumosu](http://cosumosu.tumblr.com) for the art that provided the original inspiration for this series, including the lion doll designs, and to [ardett](http://ardett.tumblr.com) for inviting me to join this marvelous AU.

Lance didn't want to see him.

Thace paced outside the healing rooms, his hands continually rising to rake through the fur on the top of his head. He knew he looked bedraggled and crazed at this point, but he didn't much care. Kolivan sat on a bench against the wall, watching him move back and forth. 

"Thace," Kolivan said, deep and firm. "This helps nothing."

"I know." Thace pulled at his fur. He halted abruptly, then pivoted to face his leader. "Will you ask again? Please?"

Kolivan blinked, then rose to his feet with all the solemnity and grace of a monarch. He moved to the door and disappeared inside. Thace stood stock still, barely breathing as he stared at the door. A few doboshes later, Kolivan emerged and gave a shake of his head. "He still begs not be seen until the wounds are healed. Only Miraz is in the room with him to run the equipment."

Thace blew out the air in his lungs in a rush and rubbed his hands over his arms. "He's ashamed of his wounds. Why? They are marks of his courage and strength. Why does he refuse to let me see?"

"He must not think of them as you do," Kolivan said quietly. "Perhaps because they were inflicted on him, instead of being won in battle. He sees himself as a weakling, and he believes that you will agree. He does not see himself as a warrior, though he is one. The mere fact that he survived all that Haggar and Zarkon did to him is proof of that. Perhaps, in a little while, you can tell him that."

It was another varga before Miraz came to meet Thace. By then, Kolivan had long gone back to his duties, though Thace had appreciated his presence for every moment he chose to stay. He looked up sharply at Miraz’s entrance, then rose to his feet. "He's healed?"

Miraz nodded solemnly. Thace wouldn't swear to it, but he thought he read the signs of haunting in his eyes. Miraz had seen something that deeply disturbed him when he was healing Lance. But he would be circumspect about the wounds, as any good healer would. Thace was not Lance's guardian, so he could not demand detailed medical information. He would have to accept whatever Miraz and Lance were willing to tell him.

"All of the wounds have been closed. There will be minimal scarring from the ones I tended."

Thace took note of that careful wording. Lance would have other scars from old wounds, too late for the sealers and salves Miraz had available to him. Well, it was no more than Thace had expected.

"He will need extra food and rest for some time. They fed him the correct nutrients for his species, but the calories were barely adequate for the output required, from what little he's told me. Also..." Miraz's mouth worked for a moment. "His throat will never heal. I'm sorry."

Thace nodded. His heart sank, though he had expected this. "May I see him now? I'll show him his new quarters."

Miraz stepped back from the doorway and turned his head. "Lance? Are you ready? Thace will escort you from here, if you're willing."

Silence for a moment, then the sounds of low, cautious rustling. Lance appeared in the doorway, blinking at Thace with his solemn blue eyes. His shoulders were hunched, his arms folded in front of his stomach. He was wearing a form-fitting black suit, the most basic outfit the Blade of Marmora provided. It covered him from neck to feet, but Thace still looked over his figure searchingly. The bloody gashes on his head from ripping away that horrid muzzle were healed, no scars visible.

Thace had seen more blood on Lance earlier, hinting at other wounds under his clothes, but Lance had not allowed anyone to check on them until he was with a healer who pledged to treat him confidentially. In the heat of the escape, with Lance moving freely enough under his own power, Thace had not insisted on inspecting him. He wished now that he had. At least he would have a better idea of what Lance had suffered. As it was, he could only guess.

His imagination was horrific enough.

Thace gave the boy a smile, gentle as he could make it, and held out a hand. "I'll show you to your room here on the base. It's next to mine. Would you like to see? I..." He swallowed, then went on, his voice thick and choked. "I've been preparing it for a long time."

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/36618949755/in/dateposted-public/)

Lance's eyes widened. He reached back to Thace's hand. Once their fingers met, Thace wrapped his hand around Lance's and held on, careful and warm. Lance squeezed him back and nodded eagerly. He didn't speak, but he didn't need to.

Thace led him through the halls, Lance's hand tight in his the whole way. They did not walk quite side by side, Lance perpetually a step behind, almost hiding behind Thace's body. Whenever they passed another Blade, Lance hunched his shoulders and ducked his face, as if afraid of being seen. His hand trembled in Thace's, and Thace held him securely.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/36480998981/in/dateposted-public/)

Lance's quarters, and Thace's, were off the beaten path. Thace had been undercover for more than a decade, after all, and only recently returned. His room had been maintained in his absence, but largely neglected. The room next to his had been granted for Lance's use at his request. He assumed that the boy would prefer something secluded and out of the way, and he hoped that he would want to be near Thace. If that was wrong, he would be the first to help Lance move.

After Thace had acknowledged that it would take far longer than he wanted to rescue Lance, he'd spent the last few movements tidying and arranging his own quarters as well as Lance's. He had recognized it for the frustrated nesting behavior that it was, but he couldn't help himself. He was not Lance's official guardian, no, and he never would be. But Lance needed someone to care for him, and for far too long, Thace had been the only one willing and able to offer even a modicum of nurturing. Thace had not been able to turn those instincts off while they were separated, not that he even wanted to.

Now, his hand hesitated over the door pad before he pressed down. He would need to change the code so only Lance's signature would open it, but that could wait. Lance's hand was still clenched in his, sweat from their palms beginning to mingle, sticky and unpleasant. They were both nervous. Both afraid. It didn't seem right, but Thace didn't know how to fix it.

A shipping box rested just inside the door, and Thace nudged it out of the way with his foot as he walked inside, Lance at his heels. He saw the label on the top, and his heart jumped. Later. They would unpack that later. For now, he led Lance to the middle of the room and gently released his hand. Lance stood still as Thace gestured around.

"I kept the layout similar to your old quarters, but it's bigger, and we can change things if you like. I'm sorry there's no outer window, like you used to have, but there's a viewscreen that can be set to various natural wonders to give you an illusion of one. There's an observation deck just a few doboshes away for whenever you'd like to look outside."

He walked over to the bed and smoothed his hand over the cover, a sudden lump rising in his throat. "This is the nicest blanket I could find. I hope you like it." His voice was barely above a whisper. It was a pretty blanket, swirled in shades of blue with a pattern of gold and white specks that resembled stars. As soon as he'd seen it in the market on Danber, he knew he had to buy it for Lance.

He turned back and found Lance staring with enormous eyes, as blue as that blanket. He offered a strained smile, then moved counterclockwise around the room to the next item of interest. "Here's a desk and chair, for whatever you'd like to use it for. I procured some basic supplies, and there's plenty more we can get if you'd like to do handcrafts or writing or...or anything else." He touched the datapad on top of the desk. "We can set this with a biosignature so only you can access it. You can make notes, keep a diary, whatever you want. It's connected to the mainframe, so you can access all the digital files in the library. There are novels, histories, videos, music, all kinds of things you can consume. The communicator will reach anyone on the base you might want to talk to."

 _But no further than that,_ he didn't say. _It will not reach to Earth. It will not reach your family._

He cleared his throat and moved on to the next furnishing, a set of shelves recessed into the wall. He ran his fingers over the few knick-knacks he had acquired here and there, little things he thought Lance would like. A shiny stone with threads of red through an onyx matrix, a handmade clock with a pendulum that swung back and forth, a jar of tiny round shells from an ocean planet.

"There's not much here, I know, but...I hope you will find things you like that you can save here. I know your room in Zarkon's ship was rather bare, and I want you to make this space your own. Don't feel obligated to keep any of the things I brought... The shelves just felt too empty, that's all. Anything you don't like, you can give to the base's storage, or to me."

He moved on to the wardrobe, the closet, both with a minimum of garments that he had thought would be Lance's size, and lastly, the doorway to the private ensuite bathroom attached to the room. This was the greatest luxury the base could afford, given that space was at a premium here. Most members of the Blade used communal showers and washrooms. Only a few officers had private bathrooms, and Thace considered himself fortunate indeed that this room came with one. And that Kolivan had allowed this space to be set aside for Lance.

"I procured a few toiletries," Thace said, gesturing inside. "You can bathe and groom yourself whenever and however you like. You can pick different items from the commissary later if you prefer other scents. I'll show you the way to the stores so you can get anything you need."

He turned back to Lance and found the boy staring around, blinking slowly. His face was blank, but his body language showed how overwhelmed he was. Thace knew it would take time for the cub to adjust, but it still made his chest ache to see him looking so small and confused.

He cleared his throat, and Lance turned to face him. "One more thing." He went to the door and picked up the box. Antok had left it here after they finished the mission on Zarkon's ship. He had found a storage closet near where they were keeping Lance and emptied it out, then brought the items back and told Thace about it. Thace knew what was inside, and he hoped that Lance would react well.

"Let's sit down, all right?" He suited actions to words, moving over to the single-person bed and sitting down near the foot. He set the box on the cover beside him and waited for Lance to join him. Lance blinked, but he nodded. He walked over and sat on the other side of the box, giving Thace a curious look.

Thace hesitated. "I know how much you loved these. I hope you still do. If it pains you to see them...if they no longer bring you pleasure and comfort...I will gladly have them destroyed. Let me know."

Then he opened the box, revealing a loose pile of colorful fabric. He reached inside and grabbed the nearest item. It was the green plush lion. He lifted it out and showed it to Lance, holding it facing the boy. He offered a hesitant smile. "Do you still want it?"

Lance's eyes were so huge that they seemed to take up his entire face. He reached out for the stuffed lion, his fingers trembling in the air. Slowly, painfully, he gripped it around the middle, then pulled it back. He held the lion propped against his chest, staring down at it. Then he looked up at Thace. He nodded. His eyes were full of tears, but his smile was incandescent.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/36449953682/in/dateposted-public/)

Thace blew out a breath, relieved. "All right," he said gently. "I'm glad you still want them. You worked hard for these, and you deserve to keep them. They're yours, now. You'll never need to use them to serve someone else ever again."

Thace set the box on the floor, and together they unpacked the lions and rested them all at the foot of Lance's bed. When Thace lifted out the black lion plush, he frowned and passed his fingers gently over the hole in its chest, the bit of white fluff still sticking out. "Would you like me to get a needle and thread so you can repair this? Or I can ask someone else to do it, if you want."

Lance barely glanced at the black lion, averting his gaze as he shook his head and continued to arrange the other lions with meticulous care. Thace sighed and set the lion with the others. He noticed that Lance didn't touch it, just moved the lions around it. It still reminded him of Zarkon, then. But Lance didn't want to give it up, and Thace wouldn't ask him to. Perhaps, in time, the association would fade.

When all was finished, Thace slowly rose to his feet and moved to the middle of the room. He looked around, as if making one last check to make sure everything was as it should be, then turned back to Lance and gave him a smile. He didn't think he succeeded in hiding the sadness in it. "Well, I'll be going then. I'll give you some time to get used to your new room."

Lance leaped to his feet in sudden panic. "No!" He cut himself off and jammed both hands over his mouth, terror pulling his body rigid. He hadn't meant to speak.

Thace felt like a hot, heavy stone had taken up residence in his stomach. "Lance..." He went back to the boy and touched the backs of his hands with the tips of his fingers, careful not to scratch him with his claws. "It's okay." He swallowed. "You can use your own words now. No one will punish you for speaking. You are allowed to express your wishes. There is nothing defiant or disobedient about it. All of the old rules are gone. You don't have to follow them anymore."

Lance's eyes shimmered with tears again, though they were not tears of joy this time. Thace worked his fingers carefully, carefully into Lance's clenched hands, encouraging them to fall, to relax, to release his mouth. "You can speak, cub," he murmured. "I will listen."

Slowly, Lance let Thace lever his hands away from his face. Thace held them in his own hands instead. "Would you like to sit on the bed again?"

Lance nodded, breath coming short and terrified. Thace led him back, and they sat, closer than before. The cub's entire body was shaking, but he was trying to control it.

"You don't want me to leave," Thace said. "I'm sorry. I misunderstood. Earlier, you didn't want me to see you when you were in the healing rooms, so I thought you wanted to be left alone. I was wrong, I see that now. Do you want me to stay with you?"

Lance wavered, struggling to express himself, struggling to overcome the conditioning that had forced him into silence and submission. Finally, he nodded, short and sharp, once.

"All right." Thace squeezed his hands. "I won't. I will stay with you all night, if that's what you want. Tomorrow, too. Eventually my duties may call me away, but I have a few days off to... Well, I suppose you might call it a kind of parental leave. Even after I have to go back to my work, you will always be welcome to accompany me, or come and find me no matter where I am. This is an open invitation, do you understand? No matter what else is happening, no matter who I am with or what I am doing, you are always permitted to come to me and stay with me. I will not..." He wavered, himself, then pulled in a breath. "I will never let anything separate us again, unless that is your own desire. You've been alone for long enough."

Lance stared at him, unblinking, as he struggled to comprehend this. Thace hunched his shoulders and leaned in closer. "Do you understand?"

Lance's breath came harder and harder. It shivered in his chest, in his hands still held in Thace's. Then he nodded, and all of the tension drained away. He sagged, swaying toward Thace's body as his breath became ragged.

Thace let go of his hands. He wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him in. He held him to his chest, tight and close and safe. And he closed his eyes as Lance began to cry.

This was all he had wanted for deca-phoebs. How many? When he was first put in charge of the informational unit around the strange boy from the primitive planet who had dreams of lions, he had tried to keep himself at a distance. He knew it was dangerous to get attached, dangerous to care. For a while, he had succeeded in keeping his heart bound away, viewing the boy with cold objectivity as another means to completing his mission, another step up the career ladder in Zarkon's trusted circle.

It hadn't lasted. Over deca-phoebs of watching, of observing this sweet, lonely child in his cage of isolation, Thace's heart had escaped the shackles he had put on it. He had seen Lance's longing for touch, his yearning for companionship and affection. And he had felt a matching desire to provide everything Lance needed slowly grow inside himself.

Finally, finally, he could embrace him. He could hold him. He could bend over him and murmur reassurances in his ear. 

No one was watching. No one would burst in the door and stop them. No one would drag Thace away to be executed for treason; no one would punish Lance for daring to long for more than the life of a trophy, an asset of the Galra Empire. They were safe, both of them, here in this room. Safe to clutch, to hold, to cry. And so Thace felt his own tears falling, too.

Lance cried quietly, as he did everything, so Thace tried to control his own weeping as well. It would not do to add more distress to everything the poor child was feeling. But his arms tightened, pressing the cub ever closer to his heart, and Lance wrapped his arms around Thace's body and clutched him in return.

"No more, Lance," he murmured, his throat almost too tight for speech. "No more loneliness. Not for you, not for me. I'm so sorry, cub. I'm so sorry it took me so long to come for you. But now that I have you, I'll never let you go again. Not unless you want it."

Lance shook his head against Thace's chest, hard and desperate. Thace drew in a shuddering breath. "All right. Then I'll stay. I'll stay as long as you want."

Eventually, he tugged the boy to lie down with him on the bed, maneuvering so that his head hit the pillow. Lance curled up against him, still held securely in Thace's strong arms. Lance let his head loll on Thace's arm, tears leaking from his eyes, breath coming in ragged sniffles. Thace sighed and tucked his nose into his shaggy hair, feeling drained and wrung out. Lance's hands clenched in his suit, and Thace smiled sadly and reaffirmed his grip.

"I'm not going anywhere, Lance. You can rest. I'll be here when you wake."

Eventually, Lance's tears tapered off. His breath evened out, and he slept. Eventually, long after that, Thace slept, too.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/36449953622/in/dateposted-public/)


	2. Chapter 2

Thace slept long and deep, the slumber of an exhausted warrior who knew at last that he was safe. He had not slept this well for a very, very long time. Neither in the last two phoebs, fretting constantly about Lance and what was happening to him, nor in the deca-phoebs before that, undercover in the heart of the enemy's greatest stronghold. 

At last he woke, surfacing slowly to the knowledge that he was not alone. He felt a soft, warm presence pressed against his front, still folded within the orbit of his arms. A soft clicking noise sounded in the room that he could not immediately identify. 

Something tickled under his chin. It moved, and he recognized the sensation. Lance's head, his soft, messy hair, so much longer and more fine than Galra fur. Lance was still lying in Thace's arms, tucked up under his chin, and he was awake and moving around now.

Thace smiled and opened his eyes, then looked down at the cub. Lance was lying on his side, his back to Thace's chest, body curled up in a loose ball. His eyes were open and free of tears. Sometime in the night he had worked the blanket out from under them, and it was now draped over them both. Lance held the little remote in his hand for the observation screen on the wall. The clicking noise was him cycling through the view options, moving from nebulae to sunscape to forest scene to plains of waving grass.

Finally, he settled on an underwater scene from an ocean planet, full of aquatic creatures large and small swimming in front of a colorful backdrop of plants and rocks. Lance set the remote down next to the pillow and snuggled back against Thace's bulk, then went still, staring. For the first time in a long, long time, he seemed entirely comfortable, entirely at peace.

Thace shifted carefully, just enough to alert Lance to the fact that he was awake, and bent his face down to kiss the top of his head. Lance blinked and looked over his shoulder at him. He smiled, soft and slow, and Thace smiled back. "Did you sleep well, cub?"

Lance's smile faded, his expression turning troubled, and he looked forward at the ocean scene again. "I didn't have any lion dreams."

Of course. That was what the druids had asked every morning. Thace drew a shuddering breath. He had almost forgotten. He had a great deal to teach this child of what it meant to live outside of Zarkon's influence. Even the smallest and most harmless interactions had been tainted by the Empire's use of him.

"That wasn't what I meant." Thace lifted the hand draped over Lance's body and stroked his cheek to reassure him that he wasn't in trouble and this wasn't a rebuke. "I meant, was your sleep restful? Do you feel better now?"

Lance was silent for a moment, thinking. Of course he would be truthful. He had been taught never to lie. "I... I woke up a lot."

Thace refrained from frowning, not wanting to give Lance the wrong impression. He was not upset with _him_ for this answer. He kept his voice as neutral as possible. "Did you have bad dreams?"

Lance was quiet. He went tense, shoulders hunching. His lips parted, and he drew a shaky breath.

Thace sighed and gently put his hand over his mouth. "It's all right. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Lance relaxed, but the peace of the moment had been broken. Belatedly, Thace felt the soreness of lying in one position for too long, and other needs were pressing, too. He huffed out a breath in annoyance, but carefully began to lever himself up to a sitting position, trying to worm his arm out from under Lance's head without disturbing him too much.

Lance sat up to face him before Thace was fully upright, his eyes wide and alarmed. Thace smiled and sat cross-legged on the bed, the blanket bunched up between them. "Sorry, cub. I need to go refresh myself and dress in clean clothes for the day. You are welcome to continue to rest and watch the fish, if you want to."

Lance's face was conflicted, gaze flicking between the fish and back to Thace. He wanted to keep watching the ocean scene, but he also didn't want to be alone.

Thace nodded carefully. "It's all right. When I'm done, I'll come back here. We should get some breakfast, too. You must be hungry. When you're ready, we can go to the cafeteria."

Lance frowned and looked around his room. "Should I change clothes, too?"

"If you want to. You might be more comfortable. Whatever you want to do is fine. Would you like me to show you how the shower in your bathroom works? We didn't get that far last night."

It was important to start giving Lance choices, to let him feel what it meant to be free. His time on Zarkon's ship had been regimented down to the dobosh: This block of time for hygiene, this for eating, this for training, this for reading educational materials. At least, it had been before Voltron returned. Then the druids had been with him constantly, pressing him for information on the enemy, everything he could give and more. It had all fallen apart very quickly.

Lance considered for a moment, then nodded. "I would like to take a shower."

Thace led him into the bathroom and showed him the controls. Lance tried it himself to make sure he understood before Thace stepped out. Lance was engrossed in the task, barely nodding when Thace told him he would return soon. The cub had always enjoyed his hygiene time, perhaps because it was the only place where he was not continuously monitored. Thace was glad he still seemed to find pleasure in it.

Thace hurried through his own morning routine, not wanting to leave Lance's side for any longer than necessary. It itched against his skin to be separated from him, even for this small, necessary amount of time. He kept looking over his shoulder, expecting to see a flash of robes, the glint of a white mask. Kept expecting them to take Lance away from him again. It was irrational, but he couldn't make the feeling stop.

Perhaps Thace had some healing to do, too. He would have to keep a close eye on this. He couldn't allow himself to start smothering the boy to assuage his own needs. Lance needed support, not a nursemaid. His freedom was more important than Thace's paranoia.

Back in Lance's room, the shower was still going. Thace called out to let him know he was there, then sat on the bed and waited. He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the water rushing and pounding and tinkling against the metal walls. Once upon a time, a long time ago, Lance used to sing in the shower. Other places, too. Songs from his childhood, songs his mother loved. He knew quite a few of them, and his young, sweet voice rang out and filled the space he was in as if trying to make up for the loss of other voices that should have been there.

Slowly, slowly, the songs had faded. They came further and further apart, then stopped altogether. Lance had given up trying to fill the space, trying to convince himself that he wasn't alone. Or maybe it was his joy, his childish innocence, that had gradually been devoured by his captivity. Thace wished he had appreciated the singing more while Lance still did it. Back then, he'd been trying to prevent himself from caring about him.

He wondered if Lance would ever want to sing again. He wondered if he still could, with his throat so damaged and torn by the Blue Lion's voice.

When Lance emerged from the bathroom, he was already wearing a clean suit. His hair was damp, sticking up in messy clumps. Thace fought the urge to go over and comb it flat with his claws. Instead he smiled and rose to his feet. "Would you like to eat now, or do you want to wait?"

Lance pressed a hand over his stomach, so much thinner than it used to be, and he had never been a well-padded child. "Now, please."

Thace led the way through the halls. They didn't hold hands this time, but Lance stuck close to him, almost catching Thace heels with his feet a few times. Thace slowed his pace, giving Lance time to duck behind him whenever another Blade passed. He hoped the nervousness would pass eventually, but it had been less than a quintent since Lance had been rescued from the Empire. Even seasoned warriors needed time to recover from captivity and isolation in enemy hands, never mind a fledgling cub who had been held prisoner for half of his life. Besides, it made him feel good to be Lance's bulwark, his shield, even against those who were no threat at all. He hadn't been able to protect Lance on Zarkon's ship. Let him at least do it now.

The cafeteria was sparsely populated, though not empty. Most members of the Blade had already started their day, but many were on night schedules or had just returned from missions or were on rest time, like Thace and Lance. Thace showed Lance how to set the food dispenser to create nourishment with the correct nutrients for him, then did it for himself as well. At other meals there would be hot food that was more pleasurable to eat, but everyone needed to eat the nutrient mush at least once a day to make sure their bodies got everything they needed.

Thace carried the tray with two bowls of mush to a table in the corner, removed from any other Blades. He had not missed how Lance kept looking around, trying to keep an eye on everyone's position within the room. He also kept looking at the corners, searching for cameras, but Thace could not ease him there, since the Blade did monitor public areas like this in case of attack. Lance appreciated having his back to the wall, though, as did Thace.

They ate quietly, digging into the nutrient mush. Lance's hand trembled around his utensil, and he kept pausing between bites. Whenever food was in his mouth, though, he chewed rapidly and gulped it down. He was trying to slow himself down, having been taught not to rush through his meals, but it was hard. As bland as this food was, it was filling, and it must have been a long time since Lance was allowed to eat until he wasn't hungry anymore. Lance finished his food first, then sat there in silence, staring at his empty bowl while Thace continued to eat.

"Do you want a second serving?" Thace asked. He had not forgotten that Miraz had advised him to make sure Lance got extra food for a while. This food was not the most enjoyable to eat, but Lance should eat as much as he wanted.

Lance shook his head, then set his utensil down by his bowl and nudged it into precise alignment. "My stomach hurts," he whispered.

Thace went still, closing his eyes in pain. He forced himself not to react in anger, knowing that Lance would misinterpret it. They had starved the boy. His stomach had shrunken, but he had eaten every bite Thace put in front of him, because that was how he had been taught. 

Thace pushed his own bowl away and turned sideways on the bench to face Lance. "Listen to me, cub..."

Lance raised his head and looked into his face, attentive as always. His back was straight, his expression solemn.

"Do you remember how I said the old rules are all gone? That includes the one about food. If you don't want to eat something, if you're not hungry anymore or even if you just don't like the taste, you can stop. That is your right. There will be no punishment for refusal, never again."

Something flickered across Lance's face. Before he could respond, however, movement in the corner of Thace's vision caught his attention. He turned to see another Blade member standing on the other side of their table, lurking menacingly. The Blade was wearing a full suit and mask, but Thace recognized him as Gartal, a young soldier he knew by sight and reputation, and he immediately tensed up.

He turned to face the young Blade, moving closer to Lance and angling his body to hide him even before Lance ducked behind his back, instinctively hiding his face. "What do you want, Gartal?" His voice was low and growling. Hopefully Gartal would read the warning and step away.

Gartal did not. He snorted and stepped closer, leaning over to peer at Lance around Thace's shoulder. "Is this the one? This little scrap of flesh?"

"This is Lance, the true Blue Paladin of Voltron," Thace forced out through gritted teeth. He suspected he knew why Gartal was here, and he needed to cut it off. "If you are wise, you will not speak of him in such a dismissive manner. You will turn around and leave us this instant. Say nothing more."

"I will leave," Gartal said. If anything, the disgust and disrespect in his voice heightened. It poured out of him like black, stinking mud. "I only wanted to see him for myself. I wanted to see for myself if it was worth Noktin's death to rescue this creature. From what I can tell, the answer is a decided _no."_

Lance drew a breath, his body going rigid with shock. Thace leapt to his feet, his knee striking the table and making the dishes rattle. He slapped his hands down on the surface and leaned over into Gartal's space, growling at his face from inches away. He was tall enough that he was easily able to loom over the younger Blade. "Leave us. _Now._ I will speak to Kolivan about your disregard of my orders and your attitude toward our new guest. I know Noktin was your friend, and his death was infinitely regrettable. But that does _nothing_ to excuse your cruelty to an injured child."

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/43703669911/in/dateposted-public/)

Gartal snarled, but spun on his heel and walked away. Thace stood back, tension slowly leaking from his body, though he still trembled with rage. He turned back to Lance and found the boy staring blankly at the table, his face utterly empty of expression. He looked almost catatonic.

Thace let out a breath, all of his anger swept away in an instant. He felt cold with sorrow and grief. Lance should not have heard that. He had never meant for Lance to hear that.

"Lance. Cub." He put a hand on his shoulder, and Lance looked up at him. His face was still blank, but tears were beginning to gather in his eyes. "Let's go back to your room. Leave the dishes. Someone else will clear them for us."

Lance nodded numbly and stumbled to his feet. Thace took his hand and led him back, frowning at every Galra who crossed their path, though a distant part of him knew that none of them deserved it. Lance dragged behind him, hanging on his hand like a limp weight.

Back in the room, Lance sat on the edge of the bed, his hands on his knees, and stared at the floor. Thace stood in front of him, and his guts felt eaten up with sadness. He would do anything to take back to the last twenty doboshes, to prevent Gartal from speaking where Lance could hear him, but it was too late now.

"Lance." He spoke gently, but insistence gathered in his voice. "Talk to me. Please. You should not have heard that, and I'm very sorry you did, but I need to know what you're thinking now. Are you all right?"

Lance was still for a few seconds, then shook his head, side to side. Slow and steady, like the pendulum on the clock in the bookshelf. He said something so low and raspy that Thace couldn't hear him.

Thace stepped closer, his heart pounding. "What did you say, cub? Please repeat it. I need to hear your voice."

Lance raised his head and looked up at him. His blankness had cracked, revealing utter devastation. Tears fell down his cheeks in unending streams, and his hands were limp in his lap. "You shouldn't have rescued me," he said, and this time Thace heard every word.

Thace shook his head, the response instant, reflexive. "Of course I should have, of course..."

"You shouldn't have rescued me." Lance's voice was louder this time. Then it was a yell, heartbroken and cracking. "You shouldn't have rescued me. You shouldn't have rescued me!"

"Lance..." Thace fell to his knees in front of him and reached out to take his shoulders in his hands. His voice was cracked and broken, too. "Don't say that, cub. Don't say that..."

Lance shook his head slowly, then faster and faster in desperate negation. "No one should have died for me, Thace. Please, please... No one should have died! It's not right, it's not right! I'm worthless, I'm nothing. I was supposed to die. Why didn't I die? Why did you rescue me?"

He sobbed and bowed his head, arms folded across his stomach. His fingers dug into his arms, digging deep furrows in the black, skin-tight suit, and he rocked forward, then back. His entire body was racked with horrible, wrenching sobs that tore at his throat and shook his limbs.

"Lance... Lance, please." Thace's hands tightened on his shoulders. He would do anything to fix this, but he wasn’t sure he even understood why Lance was saying this.

"I was supposed to pull the trigger." Lance raised his hands to his head and dug his fingers into his long, lank hair, fingernails scratching against his scalp. He grabbed two fistfuls of hair and pulled so hard that Thace was amazed he didn't rip it out at the roots. "That was lesson one. If anyone tried to take me away from Zarkon, I was supposed to put the gun to my head and pull the trigger. And I didn't. Why didn't I do that? Why did someone else have to die? That wasn't supposed to happen!"

Thace felt like his heart had collapsed into a black hole. It was eating him from the inside, his lungs, his heart, taking away his ability to breathe, to speak, to feel. Every inch of his body felt cold, convulsed with shudders. "Lesson...one...?"

Lance nodded desperately and rocked forward again, the top of his head almost touching Thace's chest. His fingers pulled at his hair, knuckles white. "I was supposed to die. I was supposed to die. No one else was supposed to die...."

"Lance..." Thace could barely breathe, but he couldn't stand to see the boy doing this to himself anymore. He let go of his shoulders and laid his hands over those small, clutching fingers instead, trying to urge them to let go, to do no more harm. "I'm sorry Noktin died. I am truly, truly sorry. He was a seasoned warrior and a valuable member of the Blade. But he was killed long before we reached your cage, I swear to you. If you had killed yourself, if you had obeyed lesson one, you would not have prevented his death."

Lance continued to rock, continued to clutch at his hair. His breath came in harsh, rasping pants. But he seemed to be listening.

Thace swallowed against the lump in his throat and found more words. "If you had obeyed that lesson, you would not have saved Noktin. It was too late. You would have only brought the death count of the mission to two and the goal to failure. And I don't want that. None of us want that. Not even Gartal wants that. He is young and grieving, and he will be harshly disciplined for the way he treated you in the cafeteria. But I assure you, truly, deeply, with all my heart, that not even he would rather you were dead. We rescued you because you deserved to be rescued. That is all. That is the only reason, and it is enough."

"But I'm worthless," Lance rasped. "I'm nothing. Gartal was right about that. I'm not the Blue Paladin. I can't see the lions anymore. I can't report on Voltron's movements. I'm not a soldier. I'm not a pilot. I failed. I failed every lesson I ever learned. I should be dead, but I'm alive, and I'm worthless."

"No." Thace was able to pull his fingers out of his hair and guide his hands down to rest at his sides again. He worked slowly, carefully, trying not to force him, trying only to assist and encourage. Lance was calming down now, or at least running out of energy, going limp.

"No, cub. You are not worthless. You are Lance. You are precious. Every lesson you ever learned from the Empire was wrong." Thace bared his teeth, ferocious rage rising from the black hole in his chest once again. "I'm glad you failed them. I'm _glad._ I'm glad you're alive. I'm glad you're here. I don't want anything else from you, not now, not ever. I just want you here, safe, with me. You don't have to be a soldier, or a pilot, or an oracle, or the Blue Paladin. You are Lance, and that's all you have to be. I swear it, cub. I swear it. You are enough, just as you are."

Lance sat limp and exhausted and heaving for breath with his hands at his sides. Then he leaned forward, falling toward Thace's chest like gravity, like magnetism. Thace wrapped his arms around him and tucked his head under his chin and held him. Close and tight and safe. Here. Alive.

"You are enough," he said, soft and rumbling and certain as the stars. "You are enough. You are _enough."_

Of all the new lessons Thace needed to teach his cub, this was by far the most important. He would repeat it every quintent, every varga, every dobosh, until Lance knew that it was true. Maybe someday he would believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all of your comments and questions and asks! I might not use every idea you give me, but sometimes they'll sit around in my writer-brain and eventually come out in some way. At least two people suggested a member of the Blade picking on Lance, prompting Thace to be protective, and this is what my brain decided to do with that concept. Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> EDIT: Thanks so much to ketsalistli for [this heartwrenching art](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/164992281036/ketsalistli-maychorian-ive-been-wanting-to-draw) for this chapter. I am dead.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to ketsalistli for [this heartwrenching art](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/164992281036/ketsalistli-maychorian-ive-been-wanting-to-draw) for the previous chapter. 
> 
> More art by [artbymaryc](http://artbymaryc.tumblr.com/) is below. I am so persistently blessed with amazing art. It's humbling.
> 
> This chapter is a little shorter and less dramatic than the previous ones. Enjoy the break.

Lance didn't want to leave his room after the disaster of breakfast, and Thace gave him the freedom of choice to stay. Perhaps tomorrow he would ask again, push again, urge him to move outside his comfort zone again. But for now, Lance deserved the ability to hide away and rest his wounded spirit. Instead, Thace went to the cafeteria at meal times and brought back trays for them, guessing at what Lance might like to eat. The food wasn't quite as hot, that way, but the company was infinitely better.

The food itself was a new experience, seen through Lance's eyes. Thace urged him to eat only what he wanted and to stop when he wasn't hungry anymore, but Lance was interested in everything. He would eat a bit of each dish on the tray, then go around and finish the ones he liked first, then the rest.

Invariably, Thace had to stop him when he started looking pale. "You don't have to finish the food if you're full," he kept saying gently, and Lance nodded queasily, then forgot the instruction the next time food was available.

Thace understood the reason, and it was yet another thing that made his heart ache. The rule to eat everything placed in front of him had been ingrained too thoroughly in Lance's psyche. Thace remembered the cruel tests Lance's caretakers had subjected him to when he was young, putting unpalatable or even disgusting food in front of him at mealtimes and requiring him to eat every last morsel.

At first, Lance had refused to eat when he didn't like the food, but they kept punishing him for his disobedience until he gave in. With nausea churning in his own stomach, Thace remembered the thin rod that had been wielded against the boy. A flexible instrument of punishment, little more than a stick, it had left no marks through Lance's shirt when it struck his back. But it had stung fiercely, judging by his yelps of pain. When Thace was brought in to monitor his unit, it was already several deca-phoebs into Lance's captivity, and he almost never disobeyed anymore. Not deliberately, anyway. But Thace saw the recordings of his early "training." Even then, before he cared about the child much at all, it had required all of his skills as an undercover agent to conceal his anger and disgust at this treatment of a cub.

But of course, the Galra Empire did not see Lance as a cub. He was a trophy, an asset, a member of a slave race valuable only for what he could do, not for who he was. His psychic connection to the Blue Lion of Voltron was unique, priceless, but the boy himself was worth nothing. Everything they did to him, everything they taught him, every tick of every varga of every quintent was all about controlling him and sucking out every last bit of intel he could provide.

By the time Thace joined the unit, Lance's caretakers would sometimes give him food that was not only foul-smelling and bad-tasting, but literally made him sick. And Lance had to eat it or face the stick, and then he would be forced to eat it anyway. So he obeyed. He ate it, whatever it was, and sometimes he would be sick for vargas or quintents afterward, spending long periods of time bent over the toilet in his bathroom or lying curled up on his bed, crying and shuddering.

And they praised him for it. They told him he was a good boy. Sometimes they gave him treats after the sickness passed, tasty food or some kind of entertainment he didn't usually have access to. They told him he was good when he obeyed, and only when he obeyed. They trained him. They broke his spirit and reformed him into the image they desired.

So Lance learned to ignore his body, his own senses, and to be obedient to his masters' word no matter what it was.

Thace was glad to be able to provide Lance with food that would always taste good, or at least would be healthy and safe, even if it didn’t quite suit his sensibilities. After years of caring for another young human in this base, the cooks in the cafeteria were able to tell Thace what Lance might like, what would be safe and enjoyable for him to eat. He watched the cub's face, trying to judge what his preferences were, but Lance had been taught too well to hide his emotions. He seemed to like sweet dishes, and sometimes spicy ones. After testing each dish, he would eat those first.

Lance slept a lot, too, which was all to the good. He needed plenty of rest as well as food. He couldn't fall asleep unless Thace was there, but once under he tended to stay asleep for at least a varga before the nightmares became too intrusive. Thace used the time to take care of necessary errands.

After breakfast and the awful revelation of "lesson one," Thace held the boy until he fell asleep, then laid him down on the bed and stepped out to gather himself. He stood in the hall for a while, trembling, his head down and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Then he fetched his communicator from his own room and called Kolivan to inform him of what Gartal had done.

When Lance's dreams became bad, causing him to shift and moan under the starry blanket, Thace sat on the head of the bed, next to his pillow. He laid a hand on his head and called his name. Lance woke, blinking up at him with teary eyes. Still half-asleep, he pushed himself up and flopped over Thace's lap. Thace scooted back to the wall, taking the cub with him, and they rested for a long while, not talking, just watching the fish in the viewscreen while Thace carded his fingers through Lance’s long, messy hair.

After lunch, when Lance fell asleep again, Thace used the time to go to the commissary. Now that he'd spent more time in the boy's company, he had a firmer grasp on the things he needed. He picked up another pillow, more blankets, and soft sleepwear that would not become restrictive when Lance tossed and turned in his sleep. 

Then he came to the section for food stuffs and paused. While the cafeteria was always open for any Blade personnel, the commissary also stocked shelf-stable comestibles for those who liked to keep a store of food in their rooms. In an organization which prized paranoia and preparedness as virtues, almost everyone did. 

It would be good for Lance to have some food in his room so he would not be forced to deal with the cafeteria whenever Thace was not available to escort him. At the same time, Thace was unsure of the wisdom of giving him access to unlimited food supplies. He was still worried about Lance eating too much and making himself sick without meaning to, since he had no grasp of his body's limits and still operated under the rules he had been taught. Maybe it was too soon.

In the end, Thace's desire to give Lance more choices won out over his overprotective instincts. Lance was free now. He needed to have the chance to exercise that freedom. Making sure he had plenty food available at all times was probably the best and safest way to introduce some choices into his life, even if it might lead to him making himself sick. Freedom always had some danger to it. That was the nature of freedom. Lance needed to learn that, too.

Thace returned to Lance in time to greet him when he woke from his nap. This time he woke on his own, without a bad dream forcing him from slumber. He still seemed weary and disoriented, blinking around the room with half-lidded eyes as he pushed himself to a sitting position. Then he spotted Thace sitting in his desk chair with the new purchases laid out on the desk. Thace waved him over, and Lance cautiously rose to his feet and moved to join him.

Thace showed him the garments he had brought for him, then the packets of food. "These are mixes of roasted nuts and seeds, as well as some dried fruits." Thace passed his hand over the box of foil bags with labels in Galra script, then lifted one out and gave it to Lance to inspect. 

Lance lifted the packet to his nose and sniffed it, then looked back at Thace questioningly. Thace smiled. "I wanted to make sure you always had food available to you whenever you get hungry. Your stomach has shrunk in the last few phoebs, so you'll need to eat small, frequent meals for a while to get your body used to taking nourishment again. I want you to eat whenever you're hungry, all right? Stop when you're full, but don't be afraid to open one of these packets whenever you want to. I'll continue to bring you trays at mealtimes, and perhaps tomorrow we can try going to the cafeteria again. But this is a good backup plan."

Lance nodded, then tore open the packet to look inside. "It looks like...trail mix," he said slowly.

Thace wrinkled his forehead. "Trail mix?"

"Or, I think my friend at school called it...gorp?" Lance poked his finger inside the pack, then lifted out a small pale nut to inspect it more closely. "Back on the Earth sometimes it had candy in it." He gave a Thace a hopeful look.

Thace smiled. "Would you like some candy?"

Lance nodded eagerly.

"I'll check the commissary for some later. Or you could come with me, if you like."

Lance bit his lip, then nodded, though his heart didn't seem to be in it. He went back to his bed and sat against the wall to face the fish. He pulled his pillow into his lap and emptied the packet of nuts and fruit over the flat surface, then started to sort them into piles.

Thace moved over to the bed and sat with him, watching quietly. Lance seemed entirely engrossed in this task. Once the "trail mix" was neatly divided into piles of different ingredients, Lance tried each in turn, one at a time. He liked the round purple dried berries the most. After he finished his taste test, he ate that pile first, then the squarish pieces of dried reddish orange fruit. Then he ate the rest, seemingly in no particular order.

He seemed to be savoring this snack, eating slowly and chewing each morsel with thoughtful contemplation. Sometimes he stopped between bites to watch the fish for a moment. Sometimes he felt Thace looking at him and gave him a smile, small and pleased. Thace smiled back. His heart was full and warm, just watching his cub finding such enjoyment in something so simple. 

When Lance finished, he threw the foil packet away. He looked at the box on the desk, but he didn't take another packet. He looked at Thace, again with that hopeful expression. "Anytime I want?"

Thace nodded firmly. "Anytime you want. Once you finish that box, we'll get more. I'll make sure that you always have plenty to eat."

Lance heaved a sigh that moved his whole body. It was pure relief, pure contentment. He went back to the bed where Thace sat and leaned into his side, soft and small and relaxed. Thace wrapped his arm around him and petted his hair. And they watched the fish.

Lance cycled through the options on the remote and found other ocean scenes, too. Thace was pretty sure there were also documentaries in the video archives in the base's library. They could try those later. For now, Lance seemed to find it most peaceful and relaxing just to watch natural scenes without commentary. Thace was fine with that. He found the activity pleasant and restful, after the movements and phoebs of worrying and waiting. He was fine with doing anything while Lance was at his side, even if that was nothing at all.

In time, they would need to move beyond this room. Lance had always been a fairly active and energetic youngster, so eventually he would want some outlet for exercise. He would need to start getting used to the base. He would need to learn how to get around and how to interact with others without panicking or hiding. There were a lot of things that Lance needed to do in order to embrace his new freedom.

For now, though, this was enough. It was enough to rest and eat and watch the fish. Thace would stay by his side for as long as he wanted. Lance deserved it. All of it. And much, much more.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/37096417215/in/dateposted-public/)


	4. Chapter 4

In late afternoon, there was a chime at Lance's door. Lance, leaning into Thace's side, stiffened and turned his head to stare at it as his breath caught in his throat. Thace sighed and squeezed his shoulders. "I think I know who it is. Would it be all right if I checked the door? We can ignore it if you want."

Lance looked up at him, wordlessly questioning.

"It's safe, I promise. I believe it's Kolivan, the leader of the Blade of Marmora. You might have met him yesterday, but if you don't remember, that's all right. It was a very stressful time."

Lance blinked, then looked forward, considering. His body relaxed a little from its high-strung tension, and he nodded slowly. "I don't want to be rude. Please let him in."

Thace patted his shoulder, then stood up to get the door. It was indeed Kolivan on the other side, his face grim and hands clasped behind his back. "Hello, leader," Thace said.

Kolivan nodded his head gravely. "May I speak with Lance?"

Thace turned to look at Lance. "Would you be willing to speak with Kolivan?" He tried to tell him with his tone and body language that it was all right to refuse.

Lance sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped between his knees and shoulders hunched. He nodded. Thace went back to the bed and sat next to him again, arm around his shoulders, and Kolivan moved slowly and smoothly to follow. The door shut behind him, enclosing the three of them in the small space, and Lance's muscles tightened in response.

Lance watched Kolivan without blinking, not missing a single move he made. He didn't speak, but neither Blade had expected him to. Kolivan stepped in front of Lance, keeping a careful distance, then went down on one knee in front of him. Even kneeling, he was still taller than the sitting boy, but Thace felt Lance relax marginally.

"Hello, Lance," Kolivan said, looking into his face. "I came to offer a formal apology for the harm that was done to you this morning. Gartal had no right to say those things to you. He is currently under enforced meditation time, among other disciplinary measures, as he considers the error of his ways. When I am satisfied that he has learned his lesson, he will offer you his own apology. Until he can do so sincerely and honestly, though, he will not be permitted to be in contact with you again. You are a guest of the Blade of Marmora, and it is imperative that you feel safe anywhere you wish to go. For my part, as Gartal's leader, allow me to beg your forgiveness for our failure to treat you as you deserve. It is inexcusable." 

He put his other knee down on the floor, placed both palms flat in front of him, and bent his forehead down until it touched the surface. Then he returned to his previous position, looking into Lance's eyes. "I am deeply sorry. Please forgive me."

Lance stared at him, dazed and uncomprehending. His hands clenched into fists, pulling at the fabric over his thighs. Sweat bathed his hairline, his breath coming too short and fast. He had no idea how to deal with this, and indeed didn't understand why it was happening.

Kolivan knelt there, looking into his face, and waited with the infinite patience he was known for. Thace squeezed Lance’s shoulders, and he looked up into his face with a breath of relief, eyes pleading for Thace to explain this to him. 

"Gartal hurt you, Lance. As his leader, Kolivan feels responsible for not preventing that. He is asking your pardon for the failure. Do you forgive him? You don't have to."

Lance's face screwed up. He didn't believe that Kolivan had done anything wrong, but he didn't know how to express it without talking, and he couldn't speak. After a long, painful moment, he turned back to Kolivan and gave him a nod. His hands were clenched into tight fists. He just wanted the encounter to be over.

Kolivan understood. He nodded solemnly in return, then rose to his feet. "Thank you for your indulgence, Lance. I wish you well on your recovery. Be at peace." 

He gave Thace a final nod, then left the room.

As soon as Kolivan was gone, Lance let out an explosive breath of relief, slumping where he sat. His arms wrapped around his torso, squeezing, then he jumped to his feet and began to pace the room, unable to contain himself. His hands clenched into fists and knocked against his head, eyes squeezed shut and mouth moving as if he wanted to mutter to himself, but he didn't let a sound slip out.

Thace watched him walk back and forth in front of the viewscreen for a while, letting him work through his agitation. It was undeniably disturbing to see such an outburst of activity after Lance had barely moved in the last quintent. Thace had known that he would need an outlet for exercise, but this was like watching a trapped animal pace its cage.

Lance knew the door of his room was open. No, this cage was in his mind.

"Lance," Thace finally said, interjecting his presence into Lance's unsettled thoughts. "Do you understand why Kolivan did that? Why he apologized to you?"

Lance came to an abrupt halt and turned to face him, mouth still working as if to suppress a desire to shout. He tucked his fists into his armpits and shook his head. 

"Do you understand that what Gartal did this morning was wrong?"

Lance hesitated, then nodded. "He was bad. He disobeyed you."

"That's part of it, yes. I ordered Gartal to stop speaking because I knew his words would be harmful, but he defied me. That was wrong, certainly. But even if I hadn't told him to stop speaking, it still would have been wrong for him to say those words."

Lance forehead wrinkled. "Did someone order him previously not to say those words? Or...was he not supposed to speak to me at all?"

Thace shook his head. "No, it's not that. By saying those words, he did not disobey a specific order, except for a general expectation that members of the Blade are supposed to be hospitable to guests, I suppose. What he was said was wrong because it was hurtful. It was cruel. Orders had nothing to do with it. Even if we were not a military organization, if we were civilians working on a compound somewhere and Gartal met us randomly, it still would have been wrong for him to call you unworthy of rescue or to disparage you in any way." Thace's lip curled, and his fist tightened in his lap, but he forced it away. 

This was too much for Lance to understand. His morality had been so thoroughly twisted by his training in captivity that he only understood it in terms of being "good" or "bad," obedient or disobedient. Thace could see him struggling, and his heart ached. But they had to start somewhere.

Thace spoke slowly, trying to string the concepts together one step at a time. "Gartal is not being disciplined only because he disobeyed me. He is being disciplined because he did something wrong and cruel. As the leader of the Blade of Marmora, part of Kolivan's job is to teach those under him to do what is right, not only what is ordered. Therefore, he feels responsible for not properly teaching Gartal. Gartal's cruelty to you felt like a personal failure to Kolivan. That is why he apologized to you. Is it beginning to make sense now?"

Lance held still. Then he shook his head, misery lengthening his face. "No." A shamed whisper.

Thace nodded in acceptance. "That's all right, cub. I know it's hard. Your teachers on Zarkon's ship taught you a lot of bad lessons and bad rules. It will take time to undo all of it. We'll go slow."

Lance hesitated for a long moment, then moved back to the bed. All of his agitation and energy had drained away, replaced with weariness and confusion. He sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, turned toward Thace. He reached over for the red lion plushy and pulled it into his lap, then stared down at it, playing with its paws. "You'll teach me?"

"Of course." Thace turned sideways on the bed to face him, pulling his own legs up and tucking them under himself. "There’s nothing I want more."

"It's going to be hard for you," Lance muttered to the lion. "I'm stupid."

"No." Thace reached out and gently knocked against Lance's forehead with his knuckles. Lance squinted one eye shut and looked up at him, eyebrows bent. Thace smiled. "You're not stupid, Lance. Far from it. I know your teachers back there told you that you were, but they were wrong. They were cruel, just like Gartal this morning. They told you that you were stupid and punished you for every mistake because it is easier to control a cowed and frightened child than a brave, confident one. They tried to take away your courage and your spirit, and they wounded both quite deeply. But they didn't succeed. They couldn't break you. When I came with the Blade to rescue you, you didn't follow Lesson One. You ran to meet me, remember? That was smart. You're very smart, Lance. And you're very, very brave. I'm proud of you. More proud than I think I’ll ever be able to make you understand."

Lance shook his head and hugged the lion tighter, staring down. Thace decided to brush over that for now and return to it later. It would probably be best to start with teaching Lance some idea of what "right" and "wrong" actually meant in the universe outside the cage Lance had been kept in.

Thace thought about how to start, then had an inspiration. With another person, this line of reasoning might not work, but Thace knew how inherently kind Lance himself was, whether because of his upbringing before the Galra took him or just because of his own heart. "Let's think about this a different way, all right?"

The boy glanced up at him, then nodded, interest overtaking the pain in his expression.

"What if you had been a member of the Blade and Gartal was the one who was rescued? What if...what if I died on the mission? You would be grief-stricken, yes?"

Lance's face fell in dismay, and he stared at Thace straight on. His voice cracked on the single word, "Yes."

Thace winced, but went on. "When Gartal was safely back at the base, would you approach him and tell him that his rescue wasn't worth my death? Even if you felt that way, deep down, if you would rather that I was alive and he was still in captivity, would you say so to his face?"

Lance was absolutely horrified, sitting up straight and shaking his head vigorously. The poor red lion was squeezed so tightly that its shape distorted in his arms. "Never."

Thace nodded. "I know," he soothed. "I know. You would never, never say something like that, even if it was how you truly felt. But why? Why would you not say that?"

Lance looked down, his grip on the lion loosening as he considered. "Because...because... It wouldn't be true." Ah, right. And Lance had been taught never to lie.

"What wouldn't be true? The idea that it would be better to have me with you instead of him free? We're talking about your subjective feelings, Lance. It could be true that you would rather that I was alive, instead of a stranger merely being rescued from captivity." Thace hated himself for it, but he twisted the knife. He lowered his voice and leaned forward, almost invading Lance's personal space. "Isn't that true, cub? You care about me, don't you? You would rather that I was alive than dead, wouldn't you?"

Tears flooded Lance's eyes. He bent over the lion doll and hid his face against its soft head. Again, his voice cracked, rough and broken. "Of course."

"I know." Thace reached out and smoothed his hand over his head, feeling him tremble. "I'm sorry for forcing you to think about that, cub. But you would never say such things to Gartal, even if you were in terrible, terrible pain. Why is that?"

Lance thought for a long, long moment. Then he spoke, voice muffled against the lion. "It would be cruel."

"That's right." Thace kept petting his hair. Pride burst in his chest, near to suffocating him. "It would be wrong. Not because it wasn't true. Not because you had been ordered to interact with Garta in a certain way. Simply because it would be cruel. It would be wrong. You see how smart you are, Lance? You already understand what right and wrong is. It just got buried a bit under all the bad lessons that your old teachers taught you."

Lance thought about it, long and hard. Slowly, his grip on the lion plush began to relax, and he uncurled a bit from his hunched-over position and straightened to look into Thace's face again. Thace let his hand fall to his lap and gave him a strong, pleased smile.

Tears still stained Lance's cheeks, and his eyes were wet, but his expression was hopeful. "Will you..." Ah, his voice was so soft and shy. Thace's heart gave a tender throb. "Will you teach me more? What...what other things are right or wrong?"

"Absolutely. I think you already know, deep in your heart, but I will be happy to remind you." 

They talked for a long time about right and wrong, about justice and morality, freedom and truth, kindness and generosity. Why the Blade of Marmora believed in their ideals, why they chose to fight the Galra Empire even though the fight often seemed hopeless. They spoke about Voltron, too, in roundabout ways, never saying the name, just speaking of "other" forces in the universe that also fought to protect and defend the innocent.

"You don't have to be part of something like that to do what's right," Thace said, remembering how Lance had called himself "nothing" because he wasn't connected to the Blue Lion anymore. "You don't have to fight the Empire or put yourself in danger or anything like that. You've already fought enough for a hundred lifetimes, just to survive what the Empire put you through. You can be a good person no matter where you are, no matter what you are doing, as long as you are kind and just and do what's right."

Lance nodded. His eyes were drooping, and he was still hugging the red lion doll to his chest. The talk had been good, but very tiring for both of them. Thace's stomach growled, and he reached out and ruffled Lance's hair. "They'll being serving dinner at the cafeteria. I'll go and get us a tray. Any requests?"

Lance shook his head, then paused and looked up at Thace. "Something with fruit?"

Thace smiled. "Of course. I'll keep my eye out." Even if there wasn't a fruity dish on the line, he would ask for something special. He knew he could find a cook to provide it. Many members of the Blade, including cooks in the cafeteria, had asked after “the little human” when Thace forayed outside this room.

It was the first time Lance had asked for something on his own, even at Thace's prompting. He was learning. Slowly, surely, he was learning.

Lance nodded, then yawned. He slumped down on the bed and curled up with the lion hugged to his chest, eyes falling shut. Thace stroked his hair again, then reluctantly rose to his feet. “Rest,” he murmured. “I’ll be back soon.”

Lance nodded dreamily, already dozing. “Thank you, Thace. For everything.”

“Anytime.”

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/37165530972/in/dateposted-public/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All praise to [artbymaryc](http://artbymaryc.tumblr.com), as usual.


	5. Chapter 5

It was now the second full quintent since Lance's rescue from Zarkon. Thace had fetched their breakfast from the cafeteria this morning, after Lance shook his head at his suggestion that they go together. Lance still preferred to sit on his bed and watch the fish. Thace would be fine with that, but he could tell that Lance was getting bored and restless. He kept shifting around, leg jiggling as he tried to work off his excess energy. He stared at the viewscreen blankly, listlessly, no longer seeing, just looking because there was nothing else to do. 

Lance obviously felt trapped in here, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. He kept looking at the door, then away again, cheeks flushing guiltily when he caught Thace looking at him. He had also taken to lounging against the yellow lion doll, using it like a pillow between his back and the wall behind him. Thace knew Lance reached for the yellow lion when he was in particular need of comfort and stability. But it wasn't working anymore. Lance wasn't happy.

Lance knew it was time to move, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was too afraid. So Thace decided to give him a push. He moved to the bed from the desk where he'd been sitting, reading his tablet, then knelt in front of Lance and placed his hand over his knee. Lance ceased his endless fidgeting and looked into his face, a spark of interest lighting in his eyes.

"Lance, would you like to go for a walk?"

Lance looked to the door, lips pressed together. Thace watched the struggle in his face. He needed to give Lance more incentive.

"I think it's time you learned your way around the base. I'll give you the grand tour. This is going to be your home for the foreseeable future, after all. You need to be able to enjoy everything we have to offer."

Lance looked back to his face, curiosity caught on the word _enjoy._ "I thought this was a military base."

Thace nodded. "Yes, much of the facility is practical. But this isn't an outpost, hidden in a time pocket in a dangerous region. This is the home of our entire organization, and many people live here. We need to have ways to remind ourselves of the good things in life, the things we are fighting for. Leisure time, quality leisure time, is important for morale. Every good military command knows that."

Lance's eyes flickered. "My old teachers never said anything like that. They said discipline was the highest value for a soldier, discipline and obedience, so everything else had to be put aside in order to serve Zarkon to the fullest."

"I remember," Thace said softly. "I had to look over your schedule every movement and approve it. I did so, because to object would be to reveal who I was, but it sickened me every time. Every varga of your time was regimented, every dobosh. You never had a moment to yourself, to do what you wanted to do for no other reason than because you wanted to. You had, what...one varga of free time before bedtime? And you were expected to read military strategy and history books about the Empire for fun. It's a miracle they let you make your plush dolls at all." He reached out and stroked his hand over the closest lion doll, which happened to be the blue one.

Lance's eyes moved to follow his hand, then went back to Thace's face. "I told them it came from my dreams. Because...it did..."

Thace nodded. "Yes, of course. They did everything they could to serve your dreams, no matter how odd. I forgot that part, I suppose. It was pleasant to watch you work on the dolls. You seemed to enjoy the process of creating them."

"I did." Lance tucked his hands under his armpits, eyes far away. "It felt like...something for me. Only for me. Though I knew... I knew I was doing it to serve Zarkon. At least, I convinced myself that I was. Because they kept telling me to listen to my dreams, to follow any urges that came from them. So that's what I did, but also... It was fun. I liked it." His arms clenched against his chest in a self-embrace. His voice lowered to a murmur. "I felt guilty for that. For enjoying it. I knew I wasn't supposed to. It felt like a lie."

Thace wrapped his hands around Lance's skinny upper arms and rubbed up and down, feeling him shiver. "You are allowed to do things because they are fun, Lance. You are allowed to enjoy your life. It's important to be happy, for no other reason than because you are a person and you deserve to be happy. That's another thing the Empire took from you, to make you believe that enjoying yourself was bad, was a lie, was disobedient. I want to give that back to you. I want you to like your life and like what you're doing."

Lance looked to his face. "I do," he whispered. "I like being here. I like being with you."

Thace smiled, and for once it was completely uncalculated. It was not meant to comfort Lance or soothe his anxiety or anything else. It was a pure expression of his own joy in this moment, a burst of emotion in his chest that took him completely by surprise. He couldn't speak for a tick or two. 

"I like this too," he said, and he hoped Lance could see his sincerity. "I like spending time with you. But I think you're starting to get a bit bored of just sitting here and passively looking at the viewscreen. Aren't you?"

Lance glanced toward the screen, which was showing another underwater scene with creatures moving here and there. He sighed, then looked back to Thace and nodded painfully. "I wish I was there. I wish I could go swimming again and be with the fish instead of just watching them."

Thace squeezed his arms. "Sadly, that's not something I can give you. We don't even have a swimming pool. Most Galra disdain getting their fur wet for long periods. But there are other places you might like. Will you come with me and see?"

Lance held still for a moment, looking at the door, teeth worrying at his bottom lip. Then he looked back to Thace and gave him a shaky nod. "Okay. Let's go for a walk."

Thace smiled and rose to his feet, then held a hand for Lance to take. Lance gave it to him much more quickly than he had that first quintent. Almost no hesitation at all. Thace folded his fingers carefully around that tiny, fragile paw, making sure not to scratch him with his claws, and led him through the door and into the hall.

This time, Thace made more effort to encourage Lance to walk beside him instead of behind him. Lance accepted it as long as Thace let him walk next to the wall while Thace was in the center of the hallway, providing a buffer between Lance and anyone else who passed by. Most of the Blades who met them gave Lance at least a curious glance, if not a welcoming nod, but Thace's protective body language warned them off from speaking to him.

Lance was unable to meet anyone's eyes, looking fixedly at the floor as if afraid he would trip at any moment, so their friendliness was wasted on him. Thace gave them grateful nods, though, strongly aware that they were sympathetic to Lance. The members of the Blade were good people, with very few exceptions, and Thace was glad to be in a community who would do right by his cub. Eventually, perhaps, Lance would appreciate it, too.

"All right, first stop on the grand tour." Thace brought them to the edge of a wide open doorway, through which could be heard the sounds of pounding feet, grunts of effort, shouts of excitement, and the clash of weapons. He swept his hand toward the opening. "The training deck. Every varga of every quintent, you will be able to find members of the Blade here, building their strength and skills. It's particularly busy in the daylight vargas, but it's rarely empty, even in the middle of the night."

Lance raised his eyebrows, then leaned forward, peeking around the corner of the doorway to look inside. Thace moved so he stood at the side of the opening, fully visible to anyone inside while only Lance's head was showing. Lance understood this for the protective gesture it was and relaxed marginally. Anyone who approached them would be intercepted by Thace before they could get to Lance.

They stood there for some time, watching all the activity. There were about twenty or thirty members of the Blade working in the open space, rolling and tumbling on the mats, sparring with weapons or fists, or practicing their punches on the weighted dummies. Watching over the entire deck was Antok, who strode slowly around the room by the walls with his hands behind his back and his head up. Occasionally he would stop someone and comment on their technique, give them pointers on how to do whatever they were doing better, then move on. 

Thace could see that he was gradually making his way to the door where he and Lance stood, so he pointed Lance's attention to him. "That's Antok, the training master of this base. He's also one of Kolivan's seconds and has his complete trust. If you need anything, at anytime, but most especially anything to do with training, he will be one who can help you, and he will be glad to do it."

By now Lance was sufficiently comfortable that he had started to edge his way out of hiding behind the wall, standing upright and moving close to Thace so he could see more of the training area. He still kept a hand on the edge of the doorway, ready to duck back at any time, but his attention was fixed on all of the activity, eyes sparkling with interest. He looked at Antok when Thace spoke and stiffened a bit as he registered just how huge and strong Antok was, but was soon distracted by other movement and looked toward a pair of sparring Blades, his shoulders relaxing again.

Eventually, he leaned into Thace's side and tilted his head up to speak to him. His voice was so soft and shaky that Thace had to bend down to hear him, and he had to ask him to repeat what he'd said.

"Is... Is there a-anywhere to practice sh-shooting?" Lance asked, his terror at speaking in public, even just to Thace, not quite hiding his eagerness. 

Thace nodded. "This is just the main training area, where Blades come to work together or learn under Antok's tutelage.” He pointed to the doorways on the various sides of the rooms. “There are other individual training rooms through there, including rooms purely for strength training or other specialized work. And, of course, shooting galleries."

Lance nodded, his eyes lingering on the doorway Thace pointed at with the last statement. Lance had always liked target practice the best out of any of his training sessions on Zarkon's ship, Thace remembered, but he had thought the horror of "lesson one" might have destroyed that. He was glad to see that wasn't true. The Empire hadn't succeeded in taking away Lance's pleasure with his shooting skills.

"I'm sure Antok will be glad to show you to the shooting galleries and help you set up practice times," Thace said. "Look, he's here now. Why don't you ask him?"

Indeed, Antok had reached the doorway. He stood facing them, looming tall and broad above even Thace's not-inconsiderable height. Lance caught his breath and shrank back, half-hiding behind Thace, though he did not retreat to the hall. Thace was proud of him.

Thace smiled at his old friend. "Antok, it’s good to see you. How goes the training?"

Antok nodded gravely. "It goes. Will you be joining us again soon?"

"In a few quintents. My time is occupied at the moment, but I will not neglect my training for long."

Antok inclined his head, then turned to look at the boy. "This is your little human cub." Another person would have voiced it as a question, following social convention, but the answer was obvious, so Antok didn't bother. Antok rarely saw much use for niceties.

Thace reached his arm back and let his hand rest on top of Lance's head. "This is Lance, yes. Our new guest. Lance, this is Antok. Will you say hello?"

Lance stared up at the gargantuan Galra, trembling minutely. His voice was barely audible, but he spoke. "Hello." He also stepped away from Thace's side, ducking out from under his hand. He stood straight and stiff as he faced Antok, his face almost blank. It was the stance he had taken with his trainers on Zarkon's ship, standing at military attention while he waited for instructions or for discipline.

Thace turned toward him with a frown, but Antok lifted one hand by the smallest margin, forestalling him. Thace stood back at the silent request, watching. Antok regarded Lance solemnly for a moment, then went on one knee so they were more on level. It was difficult to read him through his full mask and suit and his controlled posture, even for someone as studied in the art of observation as Thace was. But Lance had spent a lot of time studying the Galra around him, too, mostly for survival. When Antok went down on one knee, he relaxed. Just a touch, yet it was there, and Thace noticed.

"Does it trouble you not to see my face, little one?" Antok asked. 

Lance shook his head. His throat worked, but he didn't speak. He had said "hello" because he took Thace's word as an instruction, something he could not disobey, but for himself, he still could not speak in the open.

Antok understood. He nodded slowly. "You are wise. It is not the face that shows the soul. You lived among bare-faced Galra for many deca-phoebs, and all the while, it was Thace who wore a mask, hiding behind the figure of a true soldier of Zarkon while he was nothing of the sort. You learned who you could trust on your own, with no one to guide you. You have done very well for yourself, though you might not believe so."

Lance wavered. He shook his head, lips parted, a flash of fear in his eyes. Not of Antok, though. He seemed less afraid of Antok by the tick.

Antok grunted. "I thought not. You have been taught to distrust your instincts, to obey without question those who would do you harm. Yet you did not succumb, not entirely. You have the soul of a warrior, little one."

Lance blinked. His breath sped up. He wanted to disagree, but he couldn't. He stared into Antok's masked face, mesmerized.

"You are not merely a guest of the Blade. You are already one of our number," Antok said, and Thace felt his words ringing through his chest, felt the truth of them deep in his bones. "Your trial was not a ritual thing carried out below decks on a Blade of Marmora base, assisted by technology and overseen by those who wished you to succeed. Your trial was one of blood and pain and degradation, carried out under the whips and knives of Zarkon himself. It was far, far worse than anything we would ever choose to subject our prospective members to. Yet you survived. You escaped death and found knowledge of yourself. You lived, and you are here."

Lance closed his eyes for a moment. Then he nodded, slow and calm, and looked into Antok's face again. Thace wasn't sure that Lance understood everything Antok was saying, but he was trying to. He understood, at least, that Antok was his ally.

Antok huffed in satisfaction. "You are no longer alone, little one. You no longer need to survive against terrible odds with no one to guide you or protect you. You are a member of the Blade of Marmora in all but name, and as the training master of the Blade, it will be my pleasure to teach you anything you wish to learn." He pivoted on his knee and spread his arm, indicating all of the Blades, young and old, fighting behind him. "Would you like to learn to use your fists? A blade? A gun? Something else? Let me know, and I will guide you. You are a warrior, and you have been alone and unarmed for too long. We will give you claws and teeth, and no one will ever harm you again."

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/37044284864/)

Lance stared at him, overwhelmed. Thace stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. Lance broke out of his daze and looked up at him. "You don't need to decide now," Thace said gently. "Antok is giving you an open invitation, not an order. When and if you choose to, you can return here, and Antok will help you learn any fighting style you want. But it is not a requirement. If you don't want to fight, you don't have to."

Lance looked back to Antok, seeking confirmation. Antok nodded solemnly. "It is as Thace says."

He rose to his feet and backed off a step, then bowed deeply at the waist to Lance. "We are honored to have you among us, little warrior." He stood straight, hands behind his back. He towered over the boy by a large margin, but Lance did not seem afraid, now. "Anytime you wish to return to the training deck, I will be happy to welcome you. For now, rest and heal from your wounds. I wish you peace." He gave Thace a final nod, then returned to his rounds.

Thace squeezed Lance's shoulder. Lance looked up at him, and he gave him a smile. "Shall we go on with the tour?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AMAZZZZZZING art by [artbymaryc.](http://artbymaryc.tumblr.com)
> 
> Also check this art of Gartal by [ketsalistlis](https://ketsalistlis.tumblr.com/post/165960662157/inktober-day-2-another-gartal-for-the-heart-bc-i)! 
> 
>  
> 
> [Inktober day 2](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/166184478556/ketsalistlis-inktober-day-2-another-gartal-for)  
> [Gartal from maychorians fic is my new son](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/166150720056/ketsalistli-gartal-from-maychorians-fic-is-my-new)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [More cute art](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/166927781846/ketsalistli-gentle-hair-petting) from [ketsalistli!](http://ketsalistli.tumblr.com/post/166409713614/gentle-hair-petting)
> 
> I have pretty much given up on responding to comments on my fics, and I'm sorry. There's just so much stuff I do in fandom, including reblogging art on my tumblr and reading, commenting on, and reccing a WHOLE bunch of gen fics every single week. But that doesn't mean I like comments any less than ever! I still really, really love them! They give me fuel and make me write faster, and I wish I had the time and energy to thank you all personally every single time.
> 
> If you really want a response to your comment, please let me know! Just put "please respond" at the end, or even "PR." That can be our code, so I know to get to you when I can. :) I read my comments over and over whenever I need a boost, so I'll get to you eventually. And if it's something urgent, I'll respond more quickly, within a day unless life gets suddenly incredibly busy. Hopefully that will help me manage my time better while also showing you readers the love and appreciation you deserve. Thank you so much!

The next place Thace showed Lance was the observation deck. It was one floor down from the training rooms, but actually closer to their quarters, and Thace was careful to point out the path back to Lance's room as they went. He wanted to be sure Lance would be able to find his way here whenever he wanted. It truly was a magnificent spectacle.

The Marmora base didn't have much in the way of aesthetics or natural beauty. Most of its design and features were military and utilitarian. But they would have been fools to situate their base in the center of such a unique cosmic phenomenon, the convergence of two black holes both feeding from the same blue star, and not provide some way to view out. And so, the observation deck, with its huge, sweeping polarized windows and stadium-style viewing benches, curved along the outside of the structure like an ancient amphitheatre.

The area was unlit except by the light that fed off the star outside, swirling through space and disappearing into two invisible disks. The view changed depending on the base's position near the star and the rotation of the asteroid. On occasion, one could even see the view of the stars away from the massive convergence. No matter what was outside the window, it was always mesmerizing. Some Blades even came here to meditate, Thace knew, basking in the light of the universe as they considered their place in it and what that meant.

Thace found a quiet area near the top of the stadium seating and ushered Lance down to sit. Lance lowered himself quietly to the bench, staring at the view out the window so hard that he almost missed his seat and sat on the floor. He hadn't looked away from the window since they first came in the doors. Thace watched him more than he watched the view, enjoying the open look of awe and pleasure on Lance's face.

"Different than watching the fish through a screen, isn't it?" he asked quietly.

Lance finally closed his mouth, and he turned his head and gave Thace an enthusiastic nod, eyes sparkling. Then he went back to watching the lightshow. "I've never seen anything like this," he murmured. "And it's real, right here, right in front me."

"Yes." Thace sighed and leaned back, propping himself on his hands behind him. "I missed this view quite a bit while I was stationed on Earth, then Zarkon's ship." He chuckled quietly. "Sometimes, while I was waiting for the chance to rescue you in the last few phoebs, the only way I could relax enough to sleep was to come here and watch the universe for a while." He waved a hand at the star being ripped apart by two enormous wells of inescapable gravity. "Despite the violence of that sight, all that energy being torn away and obliterated, it's strangely soothing."

Lance was quiet for a long moment, then flicked his eyes sideways, giving Thace a careful glance. "You had trouble sleeping?"

Thace nodded. He didn't mind admitting it. "From the moment circumstances tore me away from you, cub, all I could think about was getting you back again. I drove Kolivan near to distraction with my ranting and impatience. You can ask him."

Lance's hands worked in his lap, folding over and around each other, and his shoulders hunched slightly as he sat forward with tension in the line of his back. He stared fixedly at the windows. "I'm sorry. That I troubled you so much."

"It wasn't your fault." Thace reached out and ran his hand over his head, slow and gentle. "I was troubled _because_ of you, not _by_ you. That's a very important difference. If you want to blame anyone for my inability to sleep, all the heartache I suffered before we finally rescued you, you should blame Zarkon and Haggar. It is their fault that I had to leave you."

"Because you betrayed them. You were never on their side, and they found out." Lance’s voice was neutral, but Thace heard the tremble beneath it.

"Yes." Thace slowly straightened up and leaned forward, mirroring Lance's position. He rested his elbows on his knees and stared forward into the black hole. "Does that bother you? That I was disobedient to Zarkon? I was bad?"

Lance hesitated, worrying at his lower lip, then shook his head. "I understand now. You were obeying something different. The things we talked about earlier, like justice and freedom. You believed you were good."

"That's right." Thace watched him. "What do you think? Do you think I was good?"

Lance's nose wrinkled, and he gave a hesitant shrug. "I...I think so. You saved me, and I... I wanted you to. I still feel...guilty...about disobeying and being bad and running away. You keep telling me that I wasn't bad, so that must mean that you weren't bad, either, but... I don't know." He reached up and clenched his hands in his hair. "I still don't understand. I'm so stupid."

"No, Lance." Thace put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed back and forth, then in little circles. "You are not stupid. It's okay that it's taking time for you to understand and put everything together. I'm sorry. I meant this place to be relaxing for you. I didn't mean to ask such a hard question."

Lance shook his head. He scrubbed at his head with his hands, then straightened up again, staring out the windows. He leaned slightly into Thace's shoulder rubbing, so Thace kept it up. "It's okay. I think you're right. It is...easier...somehow...to think here, looking out at this beauty."

Thace smiled. "That's good." He dropped his hand to the bench between them and looked at the view again. They were silent for a few moments, enjoying it.

Then Thace tilted his head and looked back at Lance. "Can I ask you a question? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Lance nodded, only giving Thace a quick glance before looking forward again. "Of course. Anything."

"It's a little silly. I'm curious, more than anything. I just wondered...what did Zarkon and the other overseers tell you when I stopped coming to see you? Did they say that I was bad, that I had disobeyed and wasn't allowed to see you anymore?"

Lance looked down at his hands, twisted in his lap. "No..." His hands clenched together again, knuckles turning red and white with the pressure. His voice was almost inaudible. "They said... You didn't want to see me anymore. Because... I was a bad boy, and you were disgusted by me. I couldn't do what they wanted anymore, I couldn't... They were so angry..." His hands lifted and covered his face, and he sat there, shaking.

Thace was utterly dismayed. He hadn't meant to get into this territory, not yet. Not here. Somewhere private, maybe, when Lance was ready to share. He'd had no idea that his silly question would dig that deep. He scooted closer to the boy, until their thighs were touching, and wrapped both arms around him as far as he could. His head bent down, nose pressed into soft brown hair. He was shaking, too.

"Lance, that was a lie." His voice was trembling with barely supressed rage. How dare they. How _dare_ they. "They lied to you. I always wanted to see you. I never wanted to stay away, not for a single tick. I have never been disgusted by you, never, never, not in the all the deca-phoebs we've known each other." He laughed suddenly, remembering a few of the odder moments from Lance's puberty. "All right, there were some things I didn't know what to do about or how to advise you to deal with because humans are strange, sometimes. But I was never _disgusted._ Never. You never did anything to deserve that."

Lance leaned into his chest, trembling, but his hands stayed pressed over his face to hide him from the light. "Zarkon said that a lot, though. All the time. That... I was ugly, and you didn't like ugly things, so... You couldn't be allowed to see, because you wouldn't like it..."

"What, Lance?" Thace was almost desperate to know, now that it had been brought up. "What was I not supposed to see?"

Lance shook his head. His voice had given out, but even if it hadn't, he still couldn't say this. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Thace tsked and rocked him in his arms, resting his chin on the top of his head as he stared at the windows. He could feel the tears trickling down his cheeks, and he didn't want Lance to feel them. He had to be strong. He had to be unassailable.

"That's all right. That's all right, cub. You don't have to tell me. I would very much like to know, and I promise that no matter what it is, I will never be disgusted. I will never think you are ugly. I will never want to leave you or not see you anymore. No matter what it is. I promise. But you don't have to tell me until you're ready."

Lance drew a shuddering breath and nodded. Thace continued to hold him and rock him, and they sat there in the blue starlight, letting it wash over them. Other Blades who shared the space with them kept a careful distance, though Thace occasionally saw a worried look, a tense expression. So many people wanted to help, but they knew they couldn't do anything.

Thace could relate.

Eventually Lance strengthened enough to sit back, and Thace let him go. Lance rubbed his face, then looked out the windows, hunched so far over himself that it was almost like he was trying to avoid the light. Thace left a hand on his back and looked forward with him, seeking composure. Maybe he should meditate more, because it was coming hard.

"Do you believe me?" Thace asked eventually, when he could. "Do you believe that Zarkon lied to you? I never wanted to leave. I never wanted to stay away."

Lance nodded, soft and slow. His eyes closed in a slow blink, then opened again.

Thace leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice. "Zarkon lied. And what are lies, Lance?"

"They're bad," Lance whispered, and a spark of light shone in his eyes that was not a reflection of the blue star. 

It was a breakthrough, however small, however strange. Zarkon lied, therefore he was bad. Hopefully this would open Lance's mind up in new ways, but for now, Thace was content with that. It had certainly been an eventful day so far.

Thace did his best to keep the rest of the tour low-key. He showed Lance the other key features of the base, the command deck, the storage areas, and especially the hangars and the armories. If the base were ever attacked, Lance needed to know where to go to escape or find weapons to defend himself, whether or not he chose to train in combat with Antok. Lance already knew where the cafeteria was, and he actually consented to eat lunch there with Thace, when they got hungry in the middle of the tour.

As expected, Lance let Thace do all the work, following close in his wake with his head down, never meeting anyone's eyes. He carried his own tray, but refused to express any opinion on what he wanted to eat, so Thace got him a little of everything, as usual. The cooks watched the little human with concern and gave Thace significant looks, but after Lance's first few headshakes at their attempts to speak to him, they left him alone. 

They ate alone in the far corner of the cafeteria, Lance tucked back against the wall with Thace shielding him from the rest of the room. Lance barely looked up from his food, eating his way steadily through it in his now-established pattern: trying a small bite of each dish in turn, then eating by his preference in descending order. Flavorful and intense dishes were devoured first, then the rest.

Thace had been careful to get small portions so Lance didn't feel obligated to eat too much, but at the end, he still looked a little nauseated. Thace had prepared for that and gotten him a mildly spicy tea that was good for unsettled stomachs, and Lance sipped it at the end of the meal while Thace leisurely consumed his own food, chatting idly about the different areas they had visited on the base and what and who Lance might find there in the future if he chose to visit them again without Thace escorting him.

"There are usually one or two cooks on duty here in the cafeteria in the middle of the day even when it's not officially mealtime," Thace said, nodding over at the counters where the food was available. "The nature of our work means that many warriors come in at odd hours, longing for a hot meal. If you're ever hungry for something special, even if it's not at a mealtime, I'm sure any of them would be happy to make something for you. It's been a while since we've had a cub on the base."

Lance gave him a questioning look at that, though he didn't speak. Thace smiled, understanding the question. "Yes, we've had cubs here before. Not often, but now and then." He sighed. "Not long before I left for my station on Earth, my friend Ulaz took in a little orphaned cub. He was part Galra, but he looked human, like you. So small and cute and defenseless. He was a bit of a terror, in truth, but before long almost everyone in the base doted on him."

Lance opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, then looked down at his plate, frowning. Thace chuckled and scuffed up his hair. He hoped that Lance would be able to speak more easily in public soon, but they had plenty of time. For now, Thace could carry the conversation.

He spoke a little more about tiny Keith, sharing stories from before he'd left the base, and more that he'd heard in the infrequent communications he'd gotten from Ulaz while he was away. At the end, he sighed again. "Ulaz and his cub both went out on undercover missions about a deca-phoeb ago, so I missed seeing them again by the time I got back. I hope we meet again soon, but such is the life of a Blade."

Lance smiled gently, and Thace knew that he was wishing the same, for Thace's sake. Thace ruffled his hair again.

After they were both full and easy with their bellies, Thace showed Lance where to take their trays of empty dishes to be cleaned. Then, the last stop on the tour. He took Lance to the commissary.

Someday, Thace wanted to take Lance to a market or mall. Somewhere on a world of commerce, full of every type of product. Lance's wonder just at this small, military shop with its limited selection and scope was beautiful to behold. Thace led him down the rows of shelves and storage units, showing him the different sections for clothing, personal effects, household items, and other things that were necessary for daily life. Then, last, the shelf-stable food. And, yes, a small collection of candies from all over the Empire.

There were only five different candies to choose from, in five small boxes displayed side by side on a shelf, but Lance's eyes widened as if he had discovered hidden treasure. Thace watched with a fond smile as Lance pored over the treats, picking up one package, then another, reading the script on each to see the ingredients and the names. Two of the candies were of a fruity variety that Thace was sure Lance would like, another was both spicy and sweet, one was of a creamy flavor that reminded Thace of warm nights surrounded by friends, and one was a flavor he couldn't really describe, since it came from a species that shared very few sensibilities with Galra. 

"Have you had any of them before?" Thace asked.

Lance nodded and picked up the one Thace didn't have a description for. "This one tastes kind of like cinnamon and vanilla. My old teachers gave a package to me once as a reward."

Thace winced. It must have been after one of those episodes when Lance had submitted himself to bad food and gotten sick, or some other indignity. His keepers on Zarkon's ship often didn't give Lance anything in recompense for those times of misery, but every once in a while there was some kind of treat or special gift. Just often enough to keep Lance hoping that _this_ time it would be worth it, while it usually wasn't.

Lance didn't seem bothered by the memories. He picked two of those packages and placed them in Thace's hand, silently asking to purchase them, then looked at the rest longingly. Thace put his free hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to try the others? You don't have to stick just with what you know."

Lance looked up at him. "Could I?"

"Of course. Take one of each, if you want."

Lance gave him a huge, enormous smile. It was so brilliant and unsullied that you might have believed that this cub had never suffered a day in his life. Thace smiled back, though his heart ached. He wished he could see Lance smile like that all the time.

Moving quickly, Lance picked up a package of each of the other four candies and held them all piled in his hands like jewels. He gazed at them reverently as Thace led the way to the commissary keeper and purchased the treats with the GAC in his account. He had quite a lot of backpay, after all of his time undercover. Buying these treats hardly made a dent, and he would spend much, much more to see that smile on Lance's face.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/38426907842/in/dateposted-public/)

Lance barely looked up on the way back to his room, too busy staring at the candy in his hands. Thace was afraid that he might tear into them all and devour the entire pile once they reached the safety of their quarters, but Lance did no such thing. He took the "vanilla and cinnamon" candy from Thace and laid it on his desk along with the others, studying them all carefully, then picked one of the fruity varieties.

He looked up at Thace and gave him a solemn nod. "I'll try this one tonight and save the others for later. Is that okay?"

"Of course, cub. What would you like to do now? Watch the fish again?"

Lance shook his head as he moved to his bed and sat facing the viewscreen, head down as he carefully worked open one end of the package of candy, taking pains not to tear it and spill it all over. Again, he pulled his pillow into his lap and poured the candies out so he could see and sort them by color and flavor.

"You said the library database will have documentaries about the creatures we've been watching. Could we see one of them? I want to learn more about how they live and what they do. Maybe the baku? That one looked like a sea dragon. I bet its life is really interesting."

Thace grinned. He picked up the tablet and moved next to Lance on the bed, then started sorting through the options in the library to show on the screen. "Yes, I think we can do that."

Lance enjoyed the documentary almost as much as the candy. His eyes were glued to the screen for the most part, staring in fascination. Afterward, the screen went back to a nature scene, and Lance leaned back against the wall with a sigh of satisfaction. He picked up the empty candy wrapper and smoothed it out, staring at it with half-lidded eyes.

"Did you like it?" Thace asked, with a nod at the wrapper. "You were really excited about getting some candy. Was it everything you hoped for?"

Lance tilted his head thoughtfully. "It was...good. I just... I remember, back on Earth, candy was the best thing ever. Sometimes me and my siblings and friends...all we thought about was getting some candy. We would search in the couch cushions for coins so we could go to the store and buy some, or scam our parents and aunts and uncles to get some for us. Halloween was the best night of the year because everyone gave you candy just for dressing up and knocking on doors." He smiled, soft and nostalgic, eyes far away.

He looked down at the wrapper, running his fingers over the crinkled paper. "It's not quite as good as I remember. Back then, candy seemed like this amazing thing, the best-tasting thing you could ever eat. It seemed weird to me that most adults weren't as excited about candy as us kids were. I thought it was sad that you could grow up and not like candy as much as you used to. But I guess... I guess it happened to me, too."

He set the wrapper aside with a sigh, then looked up at Thace. "I still liked it. And I'll eat the rest, and I'll like that too. But when I was kid, I could hardly _stop_ myself from eating candy. My mom had to keep my Halloween candy locked up in a cupboard so I didn't eat it all at once and make myself sick. I don't feel that urge anymore. So I guess... I'm not a kid anymore."

Thace moved into his space and tugged him into his arms before he knew what he was doing. Lance's voice was so sad, so lost... Lance leaned into the embrace and sighed against his chest, arms wrapping around Thace's waist in return.

"No," Thace said, voice thick. "You aren't a kid anymore. But you can still enjoy candy, even if it doesn't taste as good as it used to. You can go to the observation deck and watch the stars. You can strengthen your body in the training rooms and have fun shooting your gun. There are lots of things you can do to enjoy your life. You're not a little child anymore, but you are still a cub, and you have plenty of time to grow."

Lance nodded into his chest. Then he went still and let himself be held.

It wasn't enough. It did nothing to return all of the things that had been taken from Lance, all of those deca-phoebs, his childhood torn from his hands in the blink of an eye and devoured by fire and pain. But it was something. Thace would continue giving him everything he could, and he had no plans to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And of course the art in this chapter came from [artbymaryc](http://artbymaryc.tumblr.com)! Please give her some love.


	7. Chapter 7

Lance didn't know what he was supposed to do. 

The last few days with Thace had been...nice. No, that word wasn't specific enough. Lance wracked his brain, trying to come up with it. He knew that he had to be as precise as possible in his language. Not being precise was a kind of lie. He didn't want to be bad; that would be a terrible way to repay Thace for all he'd done for him. So even though these were just his own thoughts, he shouldn't lie inside them.

It was hard to think. After several days wasting his time taking care of Lance, Thace had finally gone back to his normal duties. He had taken Lance with him on his first day back, showing him where he would be throughout the day. More than once he said that it would be okay for Lance to come find him if he needed something, no matter what was going on. It was very kind of him, but Lance didn't feel brave enough to do that yet. He knew Thace wanted him to be brave, so he would try, just maybe not...not right now.

Lance lay listlessly over his bed, legs on the wall and head hanging backward off the edge of the bed, the yellow lion flopped over his stomach to keep him warm. He never would have been allowed to lie like this back on Zarkon's ship. His teachers would have never let him be so slovenly and undisciplined. He took some pleasure in this act of rebellion, but he couldn't help also being nervous that someone might find him like this and be angry at him for disrespecting his room.

But he was bored. He had the remote for the window in his hand and was flipping through all the viewing options, watching them upside down. There were natural scenes, urban scapes, even the lobby of a large building where people were moving around and going about their business. Lance paused on that one and tilted his head, trying to understand what was happening, but he couldn't make sense of it. He didn't have enough context. He didn't know what normal people _did._

He wanted to go to the observation deck and look out at the star and the black holes, or maybe to the cafeteria to get some food, or maybe... But the idea of leaving his room alone made him feel all twisted up inside. What if someone didn’t like it? What if he got in trouble?

But this...this was so boring. Lance's mind felt stuffed full of gray fuzz. It felt very strange to be allowed to do whatever he wanted, even if that was just lying on his bed and staring at nothing. When Thace had been with him, he often had suggestions for things to do, and he was always willing to talk to Lance and interact with him. Now he was alone, and he didn't have a schedule, and he didn't know what to do.

Lance dropped the remote on the floor with a sigh and rolled over onto his stomach, taking the yellow lion with him. He curled up around it, hugging the big bundle of fluff against his stomach. "Hunk, what would you do?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Hunk would be in the kitchen making delicious food, or he would be in his workshop making something cool, or he would be working on the ship and fixing things that were broken. Or he would be hanging out with his team, making them feel better just by being there. Or... Or he would be fighting, setting people free from the Empire. 

Hunk was always doing things. Really cool, useful things, even though sometimes they were terrifying and awful. Lance wasn't doing anything useful. He was just lying on his bed.

A low throb started up in Lance's chest. He wanted to be useful. He wanted to do cool things. Thace had told him that he didn't have to be useful. He didn't have to do anything. All he needed to do was be, and that was enough for Thace, that was all he wanted.

But Lance had spent a lot of time being taught to be useful. He was supposed to be the Blue Paladin under Zarkon someday. And until that happened, he was Zarkon's beautiful good boy, the one who told him everything he needed to know so eventually he could gain control of Voltron and bring true peace to the universe. Then Lance had stopped being useful when Blue broke their bond.

He was never going to be the Blue Paladin. He was never going to be beautiful to anyone ever again. Not to Zarkon, not to Haggar, not even to Thace. If Thace knew how ugly he was now... Lance shuddered and hid his face in the yellow lion's chest, his breath hitching in fear. He couldn't let Thace see. Not ever. That would be the end of everything.

Lance wanted to do something. Something good. But he didn't know what that was. The last half of his life had all been building up to something amazing, and then all of that had crumbled to dust in an instant. He would have to find a new role, a new way to be useful, but he didn't know how.

Well, staying here wasn't accomplishing anything. Lance slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position on the bed, rolling off the yellow lion doll. His chest moved in a deep sigh, and he looked around the room with half-open eyes. The viewing window was stuck on a forest scene, one that barely moved, just sunlight shining through the trees and pollen drifting in the beams. Lance picked up the remote and set it on his desk, then stood in the middle of the room, head down as he tried to work up his courage.

He needed to leave this room. He needed to be brave. Thace had told him that it was okay, so he had permission, really. He wasn't being bad if he left. In fact, he would be _good,_ because Thace had told him go. Thace had told him to go anywhere he wanted, at least the places he'd shown him. He had also said that Lance could just stay in his room if he wanted to, but he had seemed disappointed at the thought. He _wanted_ Lance to go out.

Lance swallowed, then looked up. His eyes fell on his bed and his lion dolls scattered across it. Maybe...maybe it would be easier if he took a friend along. He moved closer to the bed, fingers trembling, and carefully arranged them in a row against the wall, using the green lion in one hand and the red lion in the other to move the black one so he wouldn't have to touch it. Then he stood back and looked over his row of soldiers with his arms crossed over his chest.

Maybe...yes. Lance moved forward and picked up the white doll with the orange mustache. If Coran came with him, Lance could go anywhere. Coran would open any door and tell him all about what was inside. He would be happy to do it, too, excited just to have someone listen to some of his many, many stories. Lance smiled and tucked the white lion into his arm. Yes, this was the best choice.

"You would come with me, right, Coran?"

He could almost hear the older Altean's voice. _Why, of course, my boy! Nothing would give me more pleasure._

Lance took two steps toward the door, then hesitated and turned around. He walked briskly to the desk and the box of trail mix packets. He stuffed one packet into his right hip pouch and one into the left hip pouch and fastened them carefully, then just stood still for a moment, feeling their weight. Yes, that was good. He nodded in satisfaction, then moved over to the door.

He paused with his hand over the door control, hovering. His heart was in his throat. Finally, he touched down, and the door unlatched. He pushed it open just enough to peek out, then looked left and right. No one in the hall. He breathed out in relief, then stood straight and slipped out of the door, hugging the white lion tight against his side for courage. Already, he could feel sweat beading up on his forehead.

The hallways were almost empty this time of the quintent, but Lance still stuck close to the walls and walked as quietly as he could. Whenever he saw someone ahead of him or heard footsteps, he ducked back out of sight or hid in a doorway. Once, he held his breath and waited till a Blade passed his hiding spot, then stepped out directly behind him and followed him all the way to the next passageway. The person he was following didn't look at him and didn't seem to know he was there, though the twitch of his tail could have been a sign that he sensed something was up. When his head started to turn the slightest bit as if he was about to look over his shoulder, Lance darted into a side hallway and pressed up against the wall, listening. After a moment, the Blade's footsteps faded away, and he let out his breath in an explosion of air.

It was stressful at first, trying to avoid being seen, and Lance knew he was being silly. This was not the Empire. If a Blade saw him outside his room, they would not punish him or report him to his teachers or tell Thace that he was being bad. Lance knew that, in the high up portion of his mind. But he couldn't bring that knowledge down to a lower level, not yet. He was still working on that. So for now, it just felt safer to be sneaky.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/41894991870/in/dateposted-public/)

After a while, it even started to be sort of fun. Lance turned it into a kind of game, seeing how quickly he could push himself to move while being as quiet as possible, how quickly he could get out of a hiding place after he knew the person he was hiding from had passed. He almost felt like he was a Blade himself, just like Antok had said he was, sneaking and spying around. And the white lion doll stayed close by his side the entire time, a faithful companion held in the crook of his arm. His friend's presence made Lance feel braver, like he belonged, like he had some shred of authority just because Coran was with him.

At last, he made it to the observation deck. Lance sneaked all the way to the spot where he had sat with Thace before, high up near the back wall in a corner, out of the way but still with a spectacular view of the observation windows. His shoulders relaxed, and he sat down on the stadium bench seat, all of his limbs going loose. He set the white lion up at his side so he could see the star and black holes too and patted him on the top of his fluffy head, inordinately fond and grateful for the company.

He took out the packet of trail mix in his left pouch and opened it quietly, moving slowly so the foil wouldn’t wrinkle too much, then sat there, contemplatively eating through it piece by piece as he stared out at the starlight's destruction. This time he didn't sort out all of the pieces and eat his favorites first, just let them come as they would. Sometimes the bit he put in his mouth exploded with fruity flavor, sometimes with a nutty satisfaction, and sometimes with an earthy crunch. He liked the fruity bits best, but it was all good, and being surprised was fun, in a way.

As Lance had suspected, it was easier to think in this place. The gray fuzz in his head had been cleared out by the exercise of getting here, and he felt peaceful and composed. Maybe now he could figure out the right word for what the last few days with Thace had been like.

Nice was really not the right word at all. Nice didn't mean anything. It was just bland filling that didn't taste like anything except maybe the opposite of "unpleasant.” Too vague. Unsatisfying. Lance needed something better.

These days had been pleasant, certainly, most of the time. But there had been pain, too, when Lance felt frightened or had a bad dream or felt like he didn't belong or worried about Thace finding out that he was ugly. It had been good to be with Thace, and Lance had felt safe with him, but there were times when he felt uncertain, too. Even today, he still felt nervous and unsure about his future, what he was supposed to do and be.

But the time with Thace was _good,_ that was for certain, even when it was a little scary and painful. Lance always felt that he was moving toward something, that he was learning and growing. Maybe the best word for the last few days would be...big. The last few days had been big. A lot had happened and a lot had changed, and some of it felt good and some of it felt bad, but all of it felt big. 

Thace made him feel big, even though Lance was so much smaller than him physically. Thace made Lance feel like he was a person, like he was important and worthy, even though Blue and Zarkon and everyone else had thrown him away. Thace wanted him, Thace loved him, and that made Lance feel...good.

It made him feel good. Lance smiled and finished his snack, then carefully folded up the packet wrapper and put it back into his pouch to throw away later. He patted the Coran lion on the head and picked him up again. "Let's go to the hangar, okay? I want to look at the ships."

The white lion didn't answer, not out loud, but Lance knew he would say yes. They went to the hangar and looked at the ships, and Lance didn’t think about anything sad at all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to [artbymaryc](http://artbymaryc.tumblr.com/) for the beautiful artwork. I spent a super long time staring at this one.

Over the next few days, Lance slowly grew braver. He kept venturing outside of his room to visit other parts of the ship, particularly the observation deck and the hangars, but he went other places too. He stopped by the training deck and watched the sparring, peeking around the doorway, though he did not yet have enough courage to venture inside. In the cafeteria, the cooks already seemed to know what kinds of dishes he would prefer and put them on his tray without prompting. Maybe Thace had told them. Every time, he wanted to thank them for their kindness, their generosity. They didn't have to remember, didn't have to treat him as anything special, but they did. Still, the words stuck in his throat. He couldn't make them come out.

He was still having trouble bringing the high-up knowledge down into the rest of his brain. He knew he was safe. He knew the Blade was not the Empire. He knew he would not be punished for speaking his own words. And still, he could not do it. He couldn't even speak to Thace outside his room, because his body remembered a time when that would have earned punishment, too.

Sometimes he took the white lion with him again, to give him that small feeling of authority, and sometimes he took the red or the green one. He knew Keith would want to watch the fighting, and Pidge would be curious about the ships and the stars and command deck and everything, really. He tried to borrow her curiosity, using it to buoy him up when he ventured into new places. It usually worked.

The yellow lion was a little too big and unwieldy to haul around with impunity, but Lance snuck him to the observation deck once in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep and didn't want to disturb Thace, and he fell asleep curled up over the fluffy bulk, bathed in the light of the stars. Thace found him there a few vargas later, and Lance woke to the indescribably soothing feeling of gentle claws stroking through his hair in a slow, repetitive motion, smoothing the loose curls away from his face. It felt so nice that he wasn't even embarrassed about being found like that and didn't fuss when Thace scooped him up in his arms, lion and all, and carried him back to his room. Lance fell asleep with his head pillowed on Thace's chest, and he woke the next morning tucked into his own bed, comfortable and at peace.

Sometimes he didn't take any of the lions at all, only himself. He knew he was allowed, and he was starting to believe it. He got bolder in his sneaking game, following in the footsteps of Blades walking in the halls and ducking out of sight before they turned their heads to look at him. He was almost certain now that they knew he was there—he wasn't _that_ good at being stealthy yet—but they let him play his game. Another kindness, another act of generosity.

One night he asked Thace if that was so, if the Blades knew when he sneaked in their footsteps. Thace hesitated, then smiled, wide and broad. He chuckled, the sound deep and nostalgic and soft. "Why, yes. I don't mean to disparage your skills, but I think they know. Most Galra cubs play stalking and sparring games with their caretakers, though I didn't realize that human children do the same. Adult Galra will indulge such games and even pretend to be injured when the little ones attack them, to teach the cubs confidence in their hunting skills. You are so small and fragile that you register as a young cub to Galra senses. It is instinct to play along with you."

Thace's voice was so cheerful and pleased that Lance was not embarrassed at this implication that he was younger than he truly was. Instead, warmth lit in his chest, and he ducked his head and smiled down at his hands, wrapped together in his lap. "You really think of me as a cub?"

"Yes, very much so." Thace ruffled his hair, big warm palm scuffing against his scalp and making it tingle pleasantly. "Ulaz's little cub used to do the same thing, sneaking through the halls, but we always assumed it was his Galra half that encouraged his play. I'm glad you are enjoying such games, too."

Lance nodded shyly and looked up at Thace out of the corner of his eye, a smile slowly growing on his face. If the Blades liked him sneaking around after them, then he would keep doing it. Maybe eventually he would truly be able to surprise one of them. That would be a great accomplishment.

Still, Lance could not shake the feeling of unease that dogged his footsteps. Not having a schedule, nothing he was supposed to do or be, was uncomfortable and strange. It itched at him deep inside and drove him to wander the base at all hours, as if he was looking for something. He felt restless and sad at odd times and for no reason.

One day when he went to the hangar alone, no plush lion to keep him company, he found himself standing near the magnetic barrier that separated the ships from the space beyond, staring out at the starfield beyond the blackholes. He realized that he wasn't looking at the stars, but at the darkness between them. There was...so much of it. So much darkness. So much emptiness.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/42987569514/in/dateposted-public/)

And he realized, suddenly and with a great shock, that he felt that feeling echoing inside himself. Empty. He felt empty.

He'd felt empty for a long time, but it had been such an enormous thing inside him, so huge and all-encompassing, that he hadn't been able to recognize what it was. It was as if he had been standing with his face to a wall, his nose almost pressed against it, so all he saw was the color of the wall stretching in all directions, featureless and complete. Not just part of the world, but the entirety of the world, to the point that it was not something to notice, just something that was. Only now as he was able to step back, to gain some distance, he was able to see the wall for the shape it was. Only now, as his spirit and body was beginning to heal from the phoebs of torment on Zarkon's ship after Blue broke the bond, he was able to see the emptiness that had consumed him and swallowed whole.

And it was still huge. It was a gigantic boulder that weighed down his shoulders and tore holes in his stomach. Blue broke the bond.

Since the time those dreams first showed up in Lance's head when he was nine, he had always known that he wasn't alone. He had a lion waiting for him. No, not just a lion, a _Lion._ A _Voltron_ Lion, a creature of legend, of myth, of enormous power. Yes, under the Empire's tutelage he had been taught that he was responsible for bringing that mythical power under Zarkon's rule as one of his treasured pilots, but the bond with Blue had always been something he could count on, something he could look forward to, a promise for the future.

As he dove deeper into the bond over the years, with the encouragement and persuasion of his teachers and caretakers, that connection had deepened until it took up everything in Lance's vision. He felt the other lions, too, and through them, their pilots, as well as the other inhabitants of the Castle of Lions. He had heard them speak and felt their emotions. He had watched them live and work and dream and plan and fight together, and he had been certain that someday he would be among them, part of their team, once they had been brought in under Zarkon and convinced that they were meant to fight for the Empire.

Even the making of the plush lions had been a way for Lance to connect himself more closely to that future reality, to bring it nearer to fruition. That was why he had made the blue lion doll in his own likeness, or at least the likeness he wished he had, instead of matching the reality of Allura, the current pilot of the blue lion. He had fashioned the likeness of a Lance who was carefree and comfortable and playful and outgoing, dressed in a silk Altean robe and winking at the world as if he had never been afraid for a day in his life.

He had known as he was sewing that expression on his own face that it was not true, but he had wanted it to be. He had felt that it could be someday, far in the future. He could be happy and content, surrounded by his friends, his teammates, part of a greater whole and completely accepted, a hero of the universe, beautiful and beloved. Not just by Zarkon, but by everyone.

Then Blue had taken all of that away. As Lance had looked through her eyes so many times, she looked back through his. She saw where he was, what he was doing, who he was with. And she disapproved. Lance felt her grief and rage like a lightning bolt through his sternum. He wasn't able to argue his case, so shocked and dismayed was he. Blue didn't want to join Zarkon? She didn't believe, as Lance did, that he was doing the right thing? It was all too much, too overwhelming, and he was struck silent under her all-seeing, all-knowing, utterly unforgiving gaze.

Then she opened his mouth and spoke through his throat. _“You will not use this boy again.”_

It tore him apart in more than one way. Rather, it tore him apart in every way that it was possible to be torn apart. When the voice ended, Lance fell into darkness, into emptiness.

And he was still there. He just hadn't realized until that moment, staring at the darkness between the stars and wondering what it was like to go there, then realizing that he already had. That he was still there. That he had never left, not since that day when the Blue Lion of Voltron destroyed their bond, destroyed his voice, and destroyed every hope he'd ever had for the future.

The loss and emptiness, the suddenness as well as the realization that it had been there along, left Lance reeling. He stumbled backward from the magnetic barrier, blinking as if to banish the light from his eyes. He felt dizzy, his breath coming short, and he spun away and only barely kept his balance as his feet stumbled over each other. His hands folded against his stomach, clutching together, then pressing in, as if he could hold himself together by mere force of wanting to.

It wasn't enough. The emptiness was overwhelming. He needed another touch. Another force. He needed Thace.

It was the first time Lance had gone to find Thace as he went about his duties, though Thace had encouraged him to do so many times. He moved in a thick haze, not bothering to play his sneaking game, just sliding along the wall to where he knew Thace would be as quickly as he could manage it. The Blades who saw him stepped out of the way, even opened doors for him, but Lance barely noticed. His ears were ringing, his skin was buzzing, and all he felt was need. He needed.

Thace was talking to Kolivan. Lance couldn't hear the words. It all passed by over his head, too high and muffled to comprehend. If they'd been in their quarters, he would have thrown himself into Thace's arms, and Thace would have caught him. Instead, he drew up short and stared up at him, aching with need.

As soon as he saw him, Thace broke off what he was saying and turned to face him, a gentle smile growing on his face. It took several slow, painful steps, bit by bit and movement by movement. Thace had to encourage him every inch of the way, as if Lance was a small child just learning to walk. But finally, Lance got what he wanted. Thace understood that he needed a hug, and he pulled Lance to him and wrapped around him and bent over him, and finally, finally Lance felt a little less empty.

It wasn't enough. He didn't know what would be. But it was a start. After that, Lance was much quicker to go to Thace when he needed something to counteract the aching void inside his stomach. As Thace consistently responded with understanding and compassion, Lance started to believe that it was okay to ask for this, so he didn't wait until he was quite so desperate.

Still, nothing quite filled the emptiness. Sometimes Lance got confused and thought he was hungry instead of sad. That very afternoon after the first time he sought Thace out for a hug, he went back to his room and ate every scrap of food he had stored up, hoping that it might help somehow. Instead he ended up kneeling by the commode in his bathroom, vomiting and miserable. It was even worse to know that this was something he had done to himself, a consequence of his own stupidity and lack of control, rather than a sickness imposed on him like so many he'd suffered in the past.

There was something visceral about vomiting, something raw and potent in its physicality. While he was doing it, Lance could think of nothing else. He only knew that he was sick, he hurt, and he wanted it to stop. Afterwards, he knew other things, felt other things. He was disgusting. He was undesirable. Nobody wanted a gross, vomiting human boy with puke in his hair and drool down his front. 

When the bout passed, he slumped weakly over the commode, the smell of his own sickness assaulting him in waves, and he sobbed. Everything hurt. It hurt so much. He remembered the times he'd been sick on Zarkon's ship, but this wasn't the same. He'd always believed his teachers when they said that what they did to him, what they taught him, was for a greater purpose. It was all part of his training, all to make him a better servant of Zarkon so someday he could pilot Blue and help protect the universe and strengthen the Empire.

None of that was true anymore, if it had ever been. This wasn't for any sort of purpose, just something he'd done to himself because he was stupid and didn't know how to handle his own body and his own mind. He wasn't the Blue Paladin, he wasn't beautiful, he wasn't a hero. He wasn't even a pilot or a soldier, not even a cog in a machine. He was too old to be cute, too young to be useful. He was just Lance, huddling on the floor of his own bathroom and drowning in self-pity. He didn't want to be himself anymore, but he didn't know what else he was supposed to be, and it was all just so...unbearable.

He was both relieved and ashamed when Thace found him. He didn't hear him come in, his senses too clogged with his own suffering, the sounds of his ragged sobs echoing off the bathroom walls and ringing in his ears. The first he knew of Thace's presence was a soft, sad voice. "Oh, cub." Then Thace's huge hand touched down on his back.

Lance could not help flinching and jerking away from the touch. He turned his head, eyes blurry with tears, and saw Thace crouching there on the floor with his hand still outstretched. Lance couldn't make out his expression, but he knew it would be pained. He sobbed and looked away, eyes wincing shut.

"Lance. Sweet cub." Thace's hand came toward him again. His palm brushed back Lance's sweaty hair. He didn't seem to care about the smell, the vomit, any of it. His hand covered Lance's head, heavy and protective and somehow soft. Lance closed his eyes and slumped, breathing harshly. "You've had a bad day, haven't you?"

Lance whimpered, but managed a nod. 

"Let's get you cleaned up."

Lance tried not to flinch away again, tried to control his reaction to that sentence, but it was still there. He couldn't help remembering being stripped and forcibly bathed by his caretakers on Zarkon's ship after a bout of sickness like this. Thace did nothing of the sort. He brought back a cool cloth from the sink and wiped Lance's face and hair, helped him drink some water, then got rid of the vomit while Lance slumped against the wall, his eyes closed, trying to breathe.

Afterward, Thace softly asked Lance if he would like to take a shower. He seemed to understand from Lance's hesitant nod that he did want a shower, but he didn't want Thace to help him. Thace simply made sure everything was ready and started the water, then stepped out into the bedroom. He told Lance that he would be there if he needed him, then shut the door.

Lance sat still for a few minutes longer, panting, ears straining for any indication that Thace was coming back. Finally, he gathered his strength and lunged over to lock the door. Then, finally, he was able to shower, baring his scars to the cold walls and white ceiling. 

He didn't know why he still cared. Everything was already ruined. What did it matter if Thace knew how ugly he was now? Lance had nothing. It shouldn't make a difference.

Yet, somehow, it did. For the first time since his realization at the magnetic barrier, Lance felt a spark of hope ignite in his belly. Maybe he wasn't completely bereft, after all. Maybe he did have something left to him, something good, something he wanted to protect. He still had Thace. He still wanted to be worthy in his eyes, still wanted to be in his care.

Lance wasn't completely empty. He felt the absence of Blue and his future as her paladin as a sharp and painful void, so raw and intense that it was almost physical. He had been cored, the center of him wrested away and ground to dust. But he hadn't fallen completely to despair. He had Thace, and he had the Blade of Marmora base. He was still learning what that meant, but he knew it wasn't nothing.

Clean, calm, and freshly dressed after his shower, Lance emerged from the bathroom and moved straight to the bed where Thace was sitting. He didn't hesitate, didn't waver. He was exhausted, so bone-deep weary that he was only partially aware of what he was doing, but what awareness he had was absolutely certain of his aim. Thace sat a little straighter at Lance's appearance, eyes widening, but he didn't say anything and didn't react until Lance reached him, then climbed into his lap.

Thace arms moved as soon as Lance's weight landed on his legs. He folded him into a strong, warm embrace and tucked Lance's head under his chin. Lance leaned against his chest and went limp. He closed his eyes, listening to Thace's heartbeat, and thought about nothing else for the moment.

Lance didn't know how long he sat there soaking up the comfort that Thace offered. Long enough that the emptiness began to recede, partially filled by the warmth of Thace's presence. The pain and loss retreated to the edges of his mind, ever-present but less pressing now, less all-consuming. The light of the stars was being pulled away by the blackhole, constantly torn and destroyed, yet the stars remained. They were still shining, despite everything. The universe endured. Light endured. Lance endured.

Thace rumbled deep in his chest, a sound that reminded Lance of purring. He hadn't heard a cat purr for a long, long time, so he wasn't sure, but the feeling was familiar. He felt soothed and surrounded. Eventually, he realized that Thace was singing. He'd never heard a Galra sing before, and he gave over his entire being to taking in this new experience and trying to understand it.

There weren't any words in the song, at least none that Lance recognized. Just tones, slowly rising and falling. Like whale song, but much more intimate and contained. This song was not meant to travel through an ocean. It was meant only for Lance, a homely sound between the two of them and no one else.

Lance used to sing all the time, when he was alone, when he was with other people. He used to sing in the shower. Now, he couldn't remember the last time he had sung a single note. It wasn't like his teachers had told him to stop or anything like that. They had never seemed to care one way or another. At some point he just...didn't feel like it anymore.

Now, for the first time, he wondered if he could still sing at all. He had lost so much, so many things he had thought would be his forever. Had he lost this one, too?

Lance's arms had been pressed limply between his body and Thace's, but now he wiggled them free and wrapped them around Thace's middle, bringing them even closer together. He squeezed his eyes shut and listened to the song, felt it resonating through his body, rumbling in his chest and in his head and in his throat. His lips worked, pressing together, and he swallowed hard enough that he felt the damage in his throat, which he was usually able to ignore.

He drew in a breath through his nose, deep and steady, felt it lifting his chest and his stomach. A tone began to sound in his breast, low and almost buried under Thace's song. It stuttered, then started again, rough and broken, but it was there. Lance turned his head so his ear pressed against Thace's chest, shifting until he could hear his voice as strongly as possible. And he tried to harmonize with it.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/39578251652/in/dateposted-public/)

His voice was terrible. It sounded nothing like he remembered from when he used to sing when he was younger. It was hard to find the right notes, hard to keep them steady against the rough surfaces of his vocal chords. He was soft and weak and almost impossible to hear, even to his own ears.

But he was doing it. He could sing. He could still sing. Despite everything, there was still music in him, no matter how broken and unsteady and poor and incomplete. Lance was hurt and discouraged and very, very sad, but he wasn't completely empty, after all. He still knew how to sing.

Thace held him a little tighter and sang a little louder, and Lance heard the pride there, felt it vibrating through his body. He could almost hear his agreement, the happiness and encouragement in his voice. _That's right, cub. You are not lost. You are not bereft. You are here, and you still have something to offer._

Lance held him tight and did his best to believe.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as usual to [artbymaryc](http://artbymaryc.tumblr.com/) for the sweet illustration.

The next day, Thace didn't go to his duties as early as he usually did. Most days, Lance woke up late in the morning and wandered out to get food from the cafeteria long after Thace had already gotten up and left his room for the day. Lance had felt bad about being lazy at first, but Thace had assured him that his body was still healing and he needed rest. So he'd gotten used to falling asleep against Thace's side while they watched documentaries and Galra movies in the evening, then waking up alone, tucked under his starry blanket with the yellow lion doll wrapped up in his arms or guarding over his sleep.

Today, the day after Lance realized how empty he was and made a fool of himself crying and eating and vomiting, then sang in Thace's lap, Lance woke up to find that Thace was still there. He was sitting at the head of Lance's bed, Lance's head resting on his thigh, while his long, gentle claws ran through Lance's messy hair. Lance blinked himself awake, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. When he remembered what had happened the night before, he groaned and turned his head to hide his burning face against Thace's leg. He was so embarrassed he couldn't stand it, and he didn't know how Thace could stand it, either.

Thace made a soothing noise and laid his hand flat over the side of Lance's head. "I'm glad you're awake, cub. I thought we should have a talk."

Lance felt his stomach drop. This was it. Thace was going to tell him that he was too troublesome and he couldn't deal with him anymore. The mess yesterday had been too much, and Thace had finally realized that he didn't have to put up with it if he didn’t want to.

Lance felt his breath catch, his body tensing, and Thace made a sympathetic sound and petted his hand over his hair again. Lance felt himself relaxing, just at the gesture. They knew each other so well now that they could speak without words.

No. None of that was true. Thace had proved over and over again that he cared about Lance, that he loved him and was willing to do whatever Lance needed. Even last night, after cleaning up Lance's puke, he had not turned away. He had held Lance in his arms and sang to him until he fell asleep. He wouldn't have done that if he had decided to turn Lance away, and he wouldn't be here this morning.

Still, Lance couldn't quite fight off that first reaction, that expectation of rejection deep inside his stomach. His rationality fought against it, overriding his initial panic almost completely, but there was still that tiny seed of doubt. He nodded under Thace's hand, then slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position, resting on the bed with the bedding bunched around his waist, and looked up into Thace's face.

"What...what do you want to talk about?" he asked, not quite able to hide the tremble in his voice.

Thace's expression twitched in unhappiness when he heard the tremble, but he still faced Lance with concern and compassion, nothing else. "I realized that I may have made a mistake with you, and I would like to rectify it."

Lance sat up straight as if electrified. His head shook in immediate negation. "No. No, you've never made a mistake with me." Thace was perfect. Did he not know that? He was everything Lance strived for, everything Lance longed to be and was afraid he would never reach.

"A lot of people have done you a lot of harm, Lance," Thace said solemnly. "I know you aren't quite able to understand that yet, because you were taught to believe that the harm was for your good. You did see through it enough to wish for escape, and that's why you're here. Your mind is stronger than you think. They did not break you. But you are wounded, deeply, terribly wounded, and I haven't done enough to help you heal."

Lance blinked at him, mind buzzing. What was Thace trying to say? Was he...was he giving up? Telling him that he needed to find someone else, because Thace couldn't do it? Because it was all too much. _Lance_ was too much. The tiny seed of doubt was growing again.

Lance's trembling intensified. He folded his hands into the blankets in his lap and clenched them tight. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions. He really, really hoped he was jumping to conclusions.

"I...I don't understand."

Thace sighed and reached out to rub his shoulder, his palm folding all the way around Lance's upper arm. "I know. I'm sorry. Perhaps we should get ready for the day first. Eat a good breakfast. Then it might be easier to talk."

Lance automatically began to agree...then stopped. He looked down at his lap, at his scarred and callused fingers wrapped around starry fabric and holding on for dear life. Then he looked back to Thace's face. "I...I'd rather hear it now, if you don't mind. If you have something you have to tell me, something important, I want to hear it right away."

Thace blinked, then smiled, slow and sincere. He gave an approving nod, as if he was proud of something Lance had done, though Lance couldn't fathom what it was. "Very well. You deserve to make that choice."

Thace settled down on the bed, leaning his back against the wall with his hands loose in his lap. Lance tried to relax, too, but he couldn't quite manage it. Instead he just sat there, hands clenched in the blankets, and looked into his face. At least he had enough courage for that.

Thace gave him a sad smile. "You needn't look like a soldier waiting for a rebuke, cub. You haven't done anything wrong. I'm not going to scold you."

Lance's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "But yesterday, I... I lost control of myself. I wasted food. I...I made bad decisions."

Thace nodded slowly. "Yes, that is all true, and I hope that we will be able to help you make better decisions in the future. But it's okay, Lance. Part of learning to be free is making mistakes and learning from them. I'm more concerned with _why_ you decided to eat all of the food in your room. You aren't stupid. You knew it might make you feel sick, or at least uncomfortable. But you still did it. Why? Do you know?"

Lance looked down at his hands, twisting together, then back to the Thace. "I...I didn't feel good," he whispered.

"How?" Thace asked, gently, so gently. "How did you feel? Were you trying to remember what it was like to be a child again, like when you ate the candy? Were you curious to see what it would be like to eat too much, since you haven't been allowed to do that for so many years?"

Lance shook his head and looked down again. Thace didn't sound judgmental. He made it sound like eating too much for such silly reasons was perfectly understandable, even acceptable, though Lance knew that wasn't true. Still, he was distantly grateful that he didn't have to say yes to those.

Thace's voice went even softer. "Did something upset you? Were you sad? The way you sought me out earlier in the day and asked for a hug... That seems more likely to me. But I would like to hear it in your words, please. Can you answer?"

Lance swayed forward unconsciously, he was thinking so hard. Yes, both of those. And more. He put a hand gently over his abdomen, where he still felt the ache of loss. "Empty," he whispered. "I felt empty."

Thace's pain showed on his face. "Do you still feel empty now?"

Lance couldn't meet his eyes. "Yes. I think...I think I always feel empty. Ever since the Blue Lion broke the bond and it all went away. I just didn't notice it until yesterday. Somehow I made myself...not see. And then I did, and now I can't stop seeing."

Thace made a small noise of distress, and Lance's gaze flew back to his face. "But it's better," he said earnestly. "Since you hugged me. And sang with me. It's still there but...not as big."

Thace nodded and put his big, strong hand over Lance's, still curled in his lap. "That's good. I wish I could give you back what you lost, repair your bond with Blue, but that is beyond my capabilities. Still, I want to do anything I can for you, no matter what that is. Can you think of anything?"

Lance looked down at their hands and slowly shook his head.

Thace did not seem upset at that. "Well, let's think about it a little more," he said patiently. "Think about how you've been feeling the past few days, since you recovered enough to move around the base and I returned to my duties. Sometimes bad feelings are a warning to us that there's something we need to change. So tell me about the feelings you've been having, and we'll think about ways to mend them. Besides empty, what else have you felt recently?"

"Well..." Lance looked up at Thace's face and managed a small smile. Thace had done so much for him, sacrificed so much, and never with a word of complaint. Lance didn't want to him think that he was ungrateful or that everything had been bad. Because that wasn't true at all.

"I feel happy. Whenever you hold me. I feel at peace, when I look out the observation windows. And I feel warm and safe when I'm in my room with my stuffed animals watching something on the viewscreen, especially when you're with me."

Thace chuckled, low and soft. "Thank you, cub." He lifted his other hand and rubbed it over Lance's head. "I'm glad you've felt good things, too. I know it's hard, but we need to talk about your bad feelings, all right? So we can figure out how to fix them, like I said."

"Okay." Lance looked down at their hands. He searched inside himself, but he already knew what he needed to say. He'd been thinking about it a lot, since he'd had the talk with Thace about justice and morality, and how the voice inside him would often tell him what was right, not just what was obedient. Many times when he'd sat on the observation deck, watching the starlight and the black holes, he'd been thinking about everything swirling inside him and trying to catalog it. He’d wanted to tell the truth if Thace ever asked about it, so in a way, he'd been preparing for this moment.

Lance looked up in Thace's face, feeling strangely confident. He knew what he felt, even though he didn't know how to fix it. "I feel lonely sometimes. I know that's my fault, since I'm too scared to talk to anyone, but I still feel it. I get confused about what I'm supposed to be doing. I get scared about the future. I'm not going to be a paladin anymore, but I don't know what else I'm supposed to be. And I get bored, sometimes. I know you've said that the strict schedule my teachers made me keep was cruel and controlling, but now that I don't have a schedule at all, I feel like I'm floating loose in space. It's scary."

Thace nodded slowly, taking it in. He lifted one hand and counted them off on his fingers. "You feel lonely, scared, and bored. Sometimes," he amended when Lance opened his mouth to remind him that he felt good sometimes, too. Thace smiled. "Sometimes you're happy, and peaceful, and comfortable. That's good. But I think we can do something to fix these three things. How would you feel about having a schedule again?"

Lance's heart lurched, and Thace hastened to continue. "Not like what you had on Zarkon's ship. Not like that at all. Not a strict schedule. And if you don't follow it, if you're off by a little bit, or even if you don't do any of it all, I will not punish you. But maybe it will give you a sense of purpose to have some things to do."

Lance found himself scooting closer, not quite meaning to. He felt a lightness in his chest, in his head, just at the _idea_ of having some kind of structure to his life again. Apparently he really did need this. "What...what are you thinking? What would that look like?"

Thace gave him another smile, even fonder, and ruffled his hair again. "That's what I want to talk about. We should think together about things that would be good for you to do, that would help you get stronger and feel better about your life without burdening you so much that you don't want to do them at all. Why don't you clean up and get ready for the day, and you think about it, then we'll go eat breakfast and discuss it further?"

Lance thought for a few seconds, looking down and rubbing his chin with his hand, then raised his head and gave Thace a big smile. "Yes. Please. That would be great."

Thace gently took his leave to go get ready, promising to meet him in the hall, and Lance finally climbed out of bed and went about his morning routine. All the while, his mind was buzzing through all sorts of ideas for things he could do that might help his life improve. Some of them made him smile, and some them made his heart flutter with nerves. He needed to talk about all of them with Thace and get his input. Thace would help him pick the right ones, help him be less afraid.

Because yes, in addition to being very, very excited about this idea, Lance was also terrified. He already knew that learning to be less bored, less lonely, and less scared was going to be hard. It was going to take work. He was going to have to be brave. It would be easier to hide in his room and not try.

But he couldn't do that anymore. If he did that, he was pretty sure the emptiness would consume him completely. He didn't want that.

Almost absently, Lance picked up the red lion and brought him along. Thace smiled when he saw the little plush tucked into his elbow. "Bringing a friend to breakfast?"

Lance glanced down at the lion, slightly embarrassed, then nodded solemnly. "Keith would be brave. I want to be brave."

Thace gave him a thoughtful look. "Keith, eh?"

"That's the name of the Red Paladin."

"You never mentioned that before. You always just called him by his title." Thace put a gentle hand on his shoulder and steered him down the hall. "Did I ever mention that Ulaz's little cub was named Keith, too?"

Lance stumbled, then caught his balance, along with his breath. "No, you didn't. You just called him 'the little cub.'" He stood straight, looking up at Thace with big eyes. "Do you think they're the same person?"

Thace hesitated, then smiled. "Who knows? It's a small universe, after all."

Lance nodded thoughtfully, and they continued their journey through the halls. As they traveled, he became more and more certain of some of the requests he wanted to make about his new schedule. He wanted to learn; he wanted to grow. He wanted Thace to help him decide what subjects he could learn from reading materials on his tablet or watching documentaries. He wanted to practice target-shooting again, and he wanted to get stronger physically.

When they drew near to the cafeteria and Lance heard voices inside, though, he halted. He could feel his heart in his ears, beating fast. Thace paused and looked back at him, waiting patiently. Lance stood still and drew a deep breath.

Before he could do any of that, he needed to learn how to speak again. He needed to communicate with the other people on the Blade base. He needed to express his gratitude for their kindness and forebearance. He needed to be a person, not just a scared victim.

He opened his eyes and gave Thace a nod, as strong as he could. Thace nodded back and led the way into the cafeteria.

They went down the line, and Thace spoke for Lance as usual, asking for certain dishes, looking at Lance and waiting for his nod before asking for others. The Blades manning the counter looked at Lance and smiled at him, though they did not speak to him directly, having learned that he wouldn't respond.

But at the end of the row, the last cook looked directly into Lance's face. He wasn't wearing a mask, and he was furry and kind, with yellow eyes that shone like lamps in the darkness. Lance looked back into his face, mesmerized.

"I hope you enjoy your food, little guest," the Blade said warmly.

Lance stood still for a moment, squeezing the red lion plush into his side. Then he met the Blade's eyes, and he smiled. "Thank you. I know I will."

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/39456029635/in/dateposted-public/)


	10. Chapter 10

It had been about a week since Lance started having a schedule again, and things seemed to be going well as far as Thace could tell. They got up at the same time in the morning now, so they had breakfast together and talked about their plans for the day. Then in the evening, they would eat together again and talk about what Lance had learned and done. These were now Thace's favorite parts of the day.

Lance had also been coming to him more frequently when he felt the need for a hug, and Thace always stopped what he was doing and gave him one. He'd explained it only to Kolivan, yet no one felt the need to interrupt them, and indeed didn't even give them strange looks. Most of the members of the Blade on the base had gotten used to seeing Lance around now, and they treated him like a wounded cub who needed extra care, always with a gentleness and consideration that was not the norm for their warrior culture.

It had not escaped Thace's notice that the other Blades treated him like Lance's parent. They always looked to him for permission when interacting Lance, waiting for his slight nod before they said or did anything with him. The first day Lance went to the training deck on his own, Antok later sought Thace out to let him know, almost as if he was giving a report. Thace listened intently and thanked Antok for his input.

Antok said that Lance was doing target-shooting and was already extraordinarily skilled and seemed to take great pleasure in it, which was exactly what Thace had expected. Lance had also expressed an interest in hand-to-hand, but when Antok started to show him some moves, he got spooked and backed away. Antok waited until he calmed down, then told him that if he wanted to learn to fight like this, he would have to learn not to be afraid. Lance had nodded seriously, then asked permission to leave, which Antok gave. Lance hadn't asked again.

"I will not go easy on him," Antok said to Thace gravely. "The enemy will not. If he is to learn to fight, he must accept the training as I give it. It will be hard for him. He has been badly used by his former masters, that is clear to see. I do not wish to do him harm, but if he wants to be a warrior, he will be treated like a warrior."

Thace sighed. "I understand. Thank you, Antok. I think it's good that you are the training master instead of me. If Lance were to ask me to teach him to fight, I would be far too gentle. It would not be good for him."

"Of course." Antok smacked his shoulder hard enough that Thace had to brace his feet to withstand the impact. "It would go against your instincts to be sufficiently harsh with your cub. Galra parents should never train their own children in battle skills. Leave it to a professional."

Thace snorted out a laugh. This was the first time someone had explicitly said that Thace was Lance's parent, though everyone treated him as such. Trust Antok to bypass social niceties, as always. "We'll keep the option open. Lance has only been free for a few movements, after all. Perhaps when his mind and heart have recovered a little more, he will be able to take your training."

"I hope so. The cub has the soul for it. It pains me to see him flinch when he should be standing strong."

"Me too," Thace murmured. Antok hit his shoulder again, not quite so hard, then took his leave.

No matter how awkward Lance was, how far he still had to go in training and in other matters, Thace was immensely proud of what he'd accomplished already. Lance had been under Zarkon's control for decaphoebs, almost half of his short life. Thace had expected it to be phoebs before the boy began to emerge from his shell, possibly much, much longer, but already he had taken enormous strides in learning to move in the world and interact with the people in it.

The first time Lance had spoken to a chef at the cafeteria, thanking him softly for the food and saying he knew he would enjoy it, Thace's heart nearly burst out of his chest with pride. He couldn't even speak as they walked over to a table and found a seat together, and even then all he could do was beam at the boy, broad and delighted. Lance kept giving him little looks out of the corner of his eye, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, blushing at the silent praise.

Since then, Lance had started talking to the other Blades more and more. It usually wasn't much, a few words at a time. He responded to greetings and thanked everyone for even minor favors, like holding a door for him or stepping to the side when he walked by. If someone tried to engage in conversation, he got tongue-tied and stood mute, staring at them in mortification until they stopped. The Blades quickly learned not to push too far, but took pleasure in what he was able to give. Thace knew that Lance would be able to talk more soon, he just needed more time and healing.

Lance said, during one of their evening talks, that he still did his sneaking game when Thace wasn't with him, but he was getting less afraid of being caught. He still practiced because he wanted to truly be able to sneak up on a Blade eventually, feeling that it would be a great accomplishment, but his heart no longer pounded quite so hard when he played his game.

"I know..." he told Thace slowly, working it out in his own mind. "I know I am welcome here. You've wanted me here from the beginning, and as I'm beginning to speak to the other Blades, and they're responding to me with kindness, I'm starting to believe that they want me here, too. But still, there's a part of me that doesn't quite believe it. I'm not used to being wanted and welcomed as myself, rather than a tool for the Empire as I was on Zarkon's ship."

"I'm glad you understand that now, cub," Thace said, ruffling his hair. "You're right. It is a sad and harsh truth that you were never truly welcome and wanted when you were held captive by the Empire. You were a possession, not a person, and that's hard to accept. I hate that that is the truth. But it's good to understand the truth, no matter how hard it is."

Lance gave him a tremulous smile. He was opening more and more under the sunlight of Thace's pride and acceptance. "I still keep expecting someone to punish me, even though you've said it won't happen. I keep feeling like I'm doing something wrong, even though I know I'm not. At least I don't think I am."

"No, you aren't doing anything wrong," Thace said. "I will tell you so as many times as you need to hear it."

Lance nodded, soft and slow. It would still take time, but he was trying. He was learning. He was becoming who he would be, who he wanted to be.

The next report about Lance came from the last person Thace expected to hear from, though. Kolivan.

Lance had missed meeting Thace in the cafeteria for evening meal. He was looking around for him, only slightly worried, when a Blade whose name he didn't know touched his arm and told him that he'd seen Lance heading back to his quarters, looking exhuasted. Thace slumped and nodded his thanks. Perhaps Lance had tried training with Antok again, or had done something else that strained his returning strength. They had never made a formal agreement to meet for dinner each night, it was just a routine they had naturally fallen into, so it was no wonder Lance hadn't thought to contact Thace and let him know.

Thace moved toward the food line. He would eat, then go to Lance's room and check on him. Before he made it to the counter, though, a hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked over and saw Kolivan looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

Thace stiffened under the unexpected tough, still a bit jumpy from his time undercover, but now he made himself relax. "Leader. What can I do for you?"

Kolivan's lips tightened. "There's something we need to discuss."

"Would you like to join me? We can talk over food."

"It concerns the cub. I think we should discuss it in private."

"Oh." Thace looked away, blinking rapidly, then back to Kolivan. Suddenly, he wasn't hungry. "Let's go back to my quarters."

Thace's room felt strangely empty, since he spent so much of his free time in Lance's room instead. But he had comfortable furniture, decked out like the officer he was. Kolivan sat on the bed, visibly relaxing as he took himself out of commander mode, down into something closer to "friend," though the two of them had never been close in that way. Thace settled into his desk chair and faced his leader, trying to dismiss the nervousness in his chest. Was Kolivan going to tell him that they needed to relocate Lance or something like that? Was the Empire close to figuring out where they had taken him? Was an attack imminent? Kolivan had access to all of the information through their spy network. He could have an early warning that needed urgent action.

Kolivan's first sentence startled him out of that line of thinking. "Did you know that Lance is in the habit of going down to the hangars alone?"

Thace tilted his head. "Well, no," he said slowly. "I know that Lance likes to explore the base, and there are several places he likes to go and think things through. He has a lot on his mind, I'm sure you understand. But we’ve never talked about him going to the hangars, specifically."

"Hmm." Kolivan's nose wrinkled. "I found him there earlier today when I went to conduct an impromptu inspection. I was...startled."

"I'm sorry?" Thace wasn't sure whether or not he should apologize for this. "I was never under the impression that any part of the base was forbidden to him. Should I have told him that the hangars are off limits?"

Kolivan shook his head. "No." The word rumbled with an intensity Thace did not quite understand. "Quite the opposite, actually. I have decided as of today that nothing in this base is to be forbidden to that cub. No room, no training, no resource. I will compose a message and send it out to all personnel to that effect later this evening. I just wondered if you knew."

The dread in Thace's chest did not disappear, it only shifted. "Kolivan... What happened?"

Kolivan met his eyes. Thace could not say for sure, since Kolivan was very skilled at hiding his emotions, but he thought he read shame there. "As I said, I was startled. I snapped at the boy when I found him there among the ships. Rather badly. It was...unkind. I did not mean to sound so harsh, but unfortunately..." He sighed. "Unfortunately, Lance reacted to my voice, to the harshness in it, as I suspect he used to react to the sound of harshness in the voice of any Galra."

Thace began to suspect where this was going. A lump rose his throat, but he choked out the words around it. "I think I understand."

Kolivan looked straight into his face, his expression grim and straightforward. It was an apology, because he had unwittingly done harm to Thace’s cub. "He bared himself for punishment. No protest, no word of complaint. Not the slightest hesitation. He knelt down on the floor and bared his back to me, because he expected me to beat him. His back..."

"Don't tell me," Thace whispered.

Kolivan raised an eyebrow.

"You're about to tell me that Lance's back is scarred," Thace said. "I know that. Or at least, I suspect it is. But he doesn't want me to know. He doesn't want me to see. Zarkon told him that his scars make him ugly, and he's terrified of me knowing that he has them. I've been able to piece that much together. For now, the fact of his scars is only a guess in my mind. I don't want to know for sure until he's willing to tell me himself. It is a secret he is keeping, and I will honor the reason for the secret, even though I long to assure him that his fear is false, that Zarkon lied to him as he lied in so many other matters. The day Lance tells me himself, or better yet, shows me, that will be the strongest measure of proof that the healing of his soul is nearly complete."

Kolivan's face softened, something Thace rarely if ever saw. He was pretty sure that the number of Blades who had seen that look on Kolivan's face could be counted on one hand. He was also pretty sure that Lance had seen that expression today.

Kolivan nodded gently. "Then I'll just tell you this. I lifted Lance up and told him that I would never hurt him. That no one on this base would ever hurt him. That no one was _allowed,_ by my order. I further told him that as of now, the base is entirely open to him. He is permitted to go anywhere, do anything, learn any skill he wishes to learn. Did you know that he wants to learn to fly?"

Thace shook his head slowly. "We've talked several times about things that he would like to learn. That one never came up, but I knew he was holding back. I think it might have...a deep significance for him. He was supposed to be the pilot of the Blue Lion. Now, that will not happen. Perhaps it hurt him to think about. I'm heartened, deeply heartened, that he expressed the desire to you."

Kolivan huffed. "He may not be the pilot of the Blue Lion. But he can still learn to be a pilot. We need to give him other goals, other aspirations. There are many things he can do and be. He is a Blade in all but name, and we will give him the tools and skills of a Blade. The universe is open to him, as much as we can give it."

Thace smiled, then released a small chuckle. "I'm glad you agree."

Kolivan simply nodded, as if went without saying. Perhaps it did, now. Thace had never expected a single encounter to so thoroughly transform Kolivan's view on Lance. Not that he had ever been hostile toward the boy, nothing like that, but now he had become the boy's most ardent advocate, excepting only Thace himself. It was marvelous to behold. Lance had gained a mighty ally today, though he might never fully understand that.

Thace hesitated, then scooted his chair closer to his leader, almost instinctively,. He lowered his head as if sharing a secret, even though they were already in closed quarters with no observers. "I wonder though, Leader..."

Kolivan looked at him solemnly.

"What if Lance ultimately decides that he does not wish to be a Blade? Not that he doesn't want to be here, I don't mean that... He very much wants to belong, to be wanted. But what if he doesn't wish to be a warrior? This fight has already cost him so much, caused him so much pain... What if he would prefer to back away from that? Would you be willing to accept that?"

Kolivan looked him in the face, his expression calm. "What are you thinking, Thace?"

Thace sighed and looked away. He hadn't mentioned this to anyone, not even Lance. "I think... It might be time for me to retire from this war. And if so, I want to take Lance with me. Some planet far away from the battlefront, a secluded planet of no military interest, where Lance can live in peace and truly, fully escape from the horrors that were forced on him. Somewhere with water, a beach, fish that he can watch and swim with..."

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/40223138754/in/dateposted-public/)

"I see," Kolivan murmured. Thace met his eyes, and Kolivan gave him a nod. "If that is what you both want, then I will approve. Wholeheartedly and without reservation. You both deserve such a life. I am sorry that this conflict has caused such deep sorrow and pain to you both, and if you truly want to leave it all behind, I will not blame you. Neither will anyone else." He shrugged. "Well, anyone who matters."

Thace smiled. "Thank you, Kolivan. I haven't talked to the cub about it yet. Perhaps he'll disagree. Perhaps not. But I wanted to ask for your input."

"I will trust you to do what's best for your own cub." Kolivan rose from his seat and clapped Thace on the shoulder. Not as hard as Antok, but close. "I'll leave you to it."

He went, leaving Thace reeling his wake. Well. Now Kolivan had called him Lance's parent, too. On this base and in the Blade, Kolivan's word was tantamount to law. Perhaps it was time for Thace to acknowledge it, as well. 

Thace stumbled to his feet and went to Lance's room, no real plan in his head, only a desire to see the boy and make sure that he was all right after the events of the day. The door opened to his hand, as always. Thace had shown Lance how to lock the door, if he wanted, but Lance never did.

The boy was sleeping, curled up on his bed under the starry blanket. When the illumination rose at Thace's entrance, he scrunched up his face and turned his head down to the mattress, muttering unhappily in his sleep, but he didn't wake. Thace smiled, slow and fond, a deep ache in his chest. He moved over to the bed and sat by Lance's head, then reached out to stroke his fingers through his hair.

"I want to take you far away, cub," he murmured. "We'll have to talk about it when you're ready, but... I want it more than I can say. I want to take you to a place where you'll be safe. Happy. A place where you'll never have to think about Zarkon or the Blue Lion or the war. A place where the things that have harmed you will never touch you again."

He stared at the viewscreen on the opposite wall, currently blank and black, not even a starfield to make the room feel more open and expansive. He thought about the seascapes Lance loved, the urban scenes that entranced him, the starlight that soothed him. He settled his back against the wall, eyes drifting shut as visions wove their through his mind.

"I want you to have adventures, of course, but I want them to ones of peace instead of conflict. I want you to have friends, to make yourself a family. I want you to strengthen and grow, to struggle and accomplish great things, to find goals for yourself and strive to reach them. I want so many things for you, Lance, my cub. My sweet cub. And I want to be there to see them."

He drew a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. Lance shifted beside him on the bed, and Thace opened his eyes to look down at him. Lance still wasn't awake, eyes pasted shut, but his hand had emerged from the shelter of his blanket and was fumbling for something. Thace looked around. Had Lance been holding one of his lion plushes when he fell asleep? Perhaps it fell on the floor.

He leaned forward to see the floor beside the bed, his hand shifting from Lance's hair as he did so. He saw the yellow lion on the floor and reached to pick it up, but before he made it, Lance's fumbling hand found his and latched on. It arrested Thace in mid-movement, and he went still and turned his head to look at the cub's face.

Lance's expression had been troubled, but now it was smooth again, peaceful. Thace flexed his hand experimentally, but Lance's grip did not loosen. His hand felt warm, so small in Thace's, but strong in its fragile way. Thace could feel the gun calluses on his fingers, his palm. 

He sat back against the wall again and settled Lance's hand in his. A smile crept over his face, soft and all-encompassing. The lion doll could wait. Evening meal could wait. Plans for the future could wait. Everything could wait.

Thace's cub was sleeping, and he was holding Thace's hand. At this moment, nothing else in the universe mattered at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please go tell [artbymaryc](http://artbymaryc.tumblr.com) how gorgeous her art is.


	11. Chapter 11

After Kolivan sent out his memo to the entire base informing them that Lance was to be treated as a member of the Blade and not merely a guest, things changed. Not in a large way, really. Almost everyone on the base had already been very kind and accommodating. There were a few more people who offered to teach him things or asked him if needed help when he looked lost, things like that, but there had already been plenty of Blades doing that.

No, the biggest change was in Lance himself. It took him some time to understand exactly what had happened, but he felt the difference immediately. He felt more settled, more comfortable and easy within himself. One evening while leaning on Thace's shoulder, sleepily watching a documentary about a planet Lance had never been to and probably never would, it suddenly came to him like a flash of lightning flaring inside his body, behind his eyes.

Belonging. He felt like he belonged. Kolivan had told him so explicitly, and he had made it official with his directive, but the feeling had been building inside Lance since he first stepped into this place. He truly belonged here. He was _wanted._ He had been literally embraced by the leader of the Blade of Marmora, just as he been figuratively embraced by the entire group all along.

And well, wasn't that what Thace had been trying to show him from the beginning? Lance remembered the first day when he was so shaky and afraid, fresh from his tortuous imprisonment on Zarkon's ship. Thace had taken him by the hand and led him to this room, and he had showed him all of the preparations he had made for Lance's arrival.

Now, Lance rolled his head sleepily on Thace's shoulder, looking at the clock on the shelf, the box of candy on the desk. He pressed his hand down on the starry blanket, running his fingers over the surface and feeling how soft and warm it was. Thace had done of all this for _him,_ just on the hope that Lance might see it someday. 

A low hum built up in Lance's chest, soft and content. He ducked his head under Thace's arm and snuggled into his side. Thace looked down at him with a small frown. "Something wrong, cub?"

 _Cub._ That word lit Lance up, too. Thace wanted him. Lance belonged here.

"No, nothing's wrong. I'm just happy."

Thace rumbled in his chest and tugged Lance into side, squeezing almost too tight for a second before he eased up. "Good."

The next day, Lance went to the observation deck to think about things. It always helped to look out at the starlight, always put things in perspective. He remembered that great yawning pit he had discovered inside himself that day in the hangar, the day he realized how deeply and raggedly he'd been torn apart when the Blue Lion broke her bond with him. Now, that hole still existed, but it was much smaller, and it was beginning to get filled in.

Lance didn't feel so desperate, now. For so much of his life, all he had wanted was to be a part of Voltron. It was his destiny, the entire point of his life. He was going to be the pilot of the Blue Lion, fighting under Zarkon's command to bring peace to the galaxy. Then, in an instant, all of that had been taken away. He had lost his feeling of belonging. Entirely. All of it had been gone.

He still felt that loss. He remembered what it had been like to hear all of their voices in his head, Pidge and Keith and Hunk and Shiro and Allura and Coran. He missed them, the team he would never have now. They had never known him, but he had known them. He had loved them and admired them, and he had longed to be with them physically just as he was psychically. Now that would never happen, and the loss still ached deep in his soul. Maybe it always would.

But Lance had found a new place, a new group of people where he belonged. Thace and the Blades had taken him in, not because of destiny or because of how useful he could be to them, but just for him. Himself. Lance. He was loved and he was wanted, and it had nothing to do with Voltron or the war or bringing peace to the universe. 

He didn't have a team, now, and he still wanted to be on a team someday. But here, he had something else. He had family.

It was strange and different, so, so different than the family he had left behind on Earth. It was smaller, a little rougher. He was a cub with many adults looking after him, rather a cub among other cubs with a few adults, and sometimes the pressure of so many eyes and so much attention made him shrink and fidget and long to get away. But it was still love, and Lance recognized it. He belonged here.

And he was happy.

"Oh. It's you." 

Lance drew up short at the voice, blinking. For the moment he felt blind, staring blankly at nothing. It was such a shock, like being struck in the face by one of Antok's punches. 

It shouldn't have been. Lance had known that this person would still be around the base. He just hadn't seen him, since that single encounter, and so he'd somehow managed to forget.

He looked down at his hands and watched them tremble, feeling as if they didn't belong to him. He felt remote, detached. He didn't know how to handle this. He didn't know what to do, not the slightest bit.

After a moment to gather himself, he turned to face the person who had spoken to him. Gartal. 

"Hello," he said softly. "Yes, it's me."

Gartal was still, watching him. He was sitting on a riser a few feet away from where Lance stood. When Lance turned to face him, he slowly rose, looking in Lance's face. His riser was a level down from Lance, so he didn't tower over him, even at full height. His body language was not aggressive, and his voice had been neutral.

Lance stared at his masked face. He felt dizzy. "I...I'll go." He turned sharply on his heel, intending to bolt out of there. He wasn't ready for this. He couldn't handle it.

"No, wait!" Gartal grabbed his arm. His grip was not hard, but it was firm. His voice was sharp, almost pleading.

Lance froze at the touch, then stood there, trembling. His body felt so tense he felt that he might snap in half, just shatter into pieces. He couldn't move. He didn't even blink.

"Wait, no. I'm sorry." Gartal drew in a slow breath, then carefully released Lance's arm and stood back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. You can go if you want to. I just...I wanted to talk to you, if you don't mind."

Lance didn't know what to think. This was nothing like the Gartal who had confronted him that first day, who had accused him of being useless, not worth the sacrifice of the life of Gartal's friend. His voice was gentle, almost begging. He had apologized and asked for Lance's permission to talk to him.

What had changed? Lance couldn't help the pulse of curiosity nudging at the back of his mind. He hadn't carried any of his lion plushes with him today, but he felt like Pidge was with him. She would want to know. She would want to study Gartal and try to figure out what made him tick, even if she was frightened.

Lance wanted to be brave and smart, too. Like Pidge. He closed his eyes and felt his chest move as he breathed, slow, up and down. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, then slowly, slowly relaxed.

Finally, he turned to face Gartal. "I don't mind. We can talk." He couldn't help the tightness of his back, and he could tell by the twitch of Gartal's head that he saw. But Lance was trying. He was doing his best.

Gartal tipped his head toward the rise where he'd been sitting. "Let's...let's watch the stars together."

"Okay."

Gartal moved first, lowering himself down to sit angled on the bench to look at Lance. Lance watched him, then slowly moved to follow. He sat next to Gartal, keeping a healthy distance between them. He wasn't watching the starlight. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Gartal.

Gartal blew out a short breath. "You feel threatened by me."

Lance flinched and almost apologized. But no. Of course he felt threatened by this person.

Gartal lifted a hand in a conciliatory gesture. "I didn't mean to make that sound like an accusation. Here. Maybe this will help."

He lifted his hands next to his face. At first Lance didn't understand what was happening, but then he heard the soft sounds of clasps releasing. Gartal was removing his mask. It peeled away from his skin, the flexible material bending in his hands, and he lowered it down to the bench between them. Then he just sat there, blinking at Lance solemnly.

Lance stared at him, overcome with curiosity and something like pity, though he was surprised by the emotion. Gartal was young, by far the youngest Blade whose face Lance had seen. True, a lot of them wore masks at all times, so there could be younger ones here, too. But he hadn't expected Gartal to look so...vulnerable.

Gartal's face was smooth, his fur very soft and light, lilac rather than purple, with darker angular markings on his face that were similar to Kolivan's. His eyes were large, and his ears were almost as big as his head, soft and twitching. A shock of white hair stuck out over his forehead, and Lance saw a ponytail peeking over his shoulder.

Gartal's smiled self-consciously and raised his hand to run it through his hair, making it stick up wildly. "Yes, I'm not much more than a cub. Like you. I'm very young and foolish, I've learned that recently. It doesn't excuse the way I treated you, though. Not at all. That was... That was cruel of me. I'm very sorry. Very, very sorry."

Lance looked down at his hands, twisted in his lap. Gartal seemed sincere. He wanted to believe him. But it was such a huge difference from the last time they'd met that he couldn't quite make it fit in his head. Part of him wondered, uncharitably, if Gartal was just trying to get in good with him now that Kolivan had given Lance his official approval.

Gartal was silent, waiting. Finally, Lance raised his head and looked at him. He needed more information. Gartal had bared his face, so now Lance could watch him and catalog his emotions. He still didn’t see any hostility, just nervousness. Lance frowned in confusion.

As the moment stretched on and Lance didn't speak, Gartal fidgeted, then opened his mouth. "You don't...you don't have to forgive me." He sounded disappointed, though. "I wanted to tell you that I was sorry, but you don't owe me anything."

Lance gave him a slow nod. "What made you change your mind? You said I was worthless. And now you're apologizing to me."

A flush crept up Gartal's cheeks, shading his lilac face a darker hue. "I was wrong," he said in a small voice. "I was wrong to say those things to you. I was hurting, so I wanted to hurt you in return. It was selfish."

"Noktin was your friend."

Gartal hesitated, then nodded. "More than a friend. He was my mentor. I was an orphan, and he took me into the Blade, instructed me, gave me a home..." He shook his head and looked away, then back to Lance. "That doesn't matter. We're talking about you, not about me. I never should have called you worthless. It was never true, and I knew it even then. I just said it to be cruel. I hope you didn't believe me. I hope Commander Thace told you the truth."

Lance heaved a sigh and looked away, staring out the windows. It was hard to remember those first days, now, when he'd been so wounded and confused. Hard to remember all of the lies he had believed, drilled into his head by Zarkon and the other Galra who controlled his life. That version of Lance felt far away now, thankfully. He knew he still had a long way to go to really understanding who he was and his place in the universe, but he was getting there.

He looked back to Gartal. "I believed you." Gartal flinched back, his face wounded, and Lance shook his head. "It wasn't your fault, though. It was what Zarkon and my teachers had told me again and again. You just reminded me." His felt his fingernails press into his palms. "I never wanted anyone to die for me. Learning that you had lost someone because of me..."

He blinked and looked up at the ceiling, trying to force the tears back. "I told Thace that he shouldn't have rescued me. That I should have died instead. That I didn't deserve to be here, I didn't deserve to be alive. He told me no over and over again, in a hundred ways. After a long time, I started to understand what he was saying."

He looked back to Gartal's face. The young Blade looked devastated, his mouth hanging open and hands slack in his lap. "What made you change your mind about me? How did you stop being angry?"

"Well, I didn't really change my mind..." he said slowly, blinking. "I never really thought you weren't worth saving. But as for how I stopped being angry, the Blade's disciplinary measures have a way of changing your mind."

Lance flinched. He'd forgotten about that. Both Thace and Kolivan had told him at the time that Gartal would be harshly punished for what he'd done, but Lance had been too distracted to think about what that meant. He'd been too busy wallowing in his own guilt about being alive.

"Did you... Did you get a whipping?"

Gartal's eyebrows rose in shock. "A whipping? No. I was given tiring chores and a training regimen that kept me busy from waking till sleep. When I wasn't working myself into exhaustion, I was given one varga to meditate on my wrongdoing. Before a day or two had passed, I was too tired to be angry anymore. Then I started to reflect on my actions, and I realized how wrong I had been. That's all I meant."

Lance looked down at his hands. His heart thumped in his chest. His body was experiencing an adrenaline response just at the idea of someone being whipped, even if it wasn't him. 

But that wasn't how the Blade did things, apparently. Lance had finally begun to believe, mostly because of Kolivan's kindness, that he wouldn't be physically punished here. The Blades saw him too much as a tiny, injured cub. But somehow, he had still thought that for other people it was different. Why was he still so stupid? He couldn't make things go straight in his head.

"Are you okay?" Gartal's voice was softer, but closer. Lance raised his head and saw that he had scooted closer to him on the bench. There was still some distance between them, but Gartal was leaning forward and looking earnestly into his face. "You look pale. Are you sick?"

Lance closed his eyes and took three deep, slow breaths, the way Antok had taught him to do when he got freaked out in the training room. Then he dared to look Gartal in the face again. "Sorry. I'm all right. Don't worry about me."

Gartal frowned. "I don't understand why you would even think that..." He drew a sharp breath and leaned back, his expression horrified. "Is that how you were punished? Back...back there?"

Lance nodded without thinking, honest despite his misgivings. His heart jumped in his chest at this admission, expecting Gartal to be disgusted now. Only bad boys got whipped.

But Gartal's face did not change. If anything, he looked sad now, not disgusted. "I'm sorry I made you think about that. I...I'm even more sorry that it happened to you in the first place."

He looked away, then back to Lance's face. "Thank you for talking to me. You had no reason to, but now... Now I understand, even better, why Noktin considered it worth his life to save you. Commander Thace must have told him and the others about what you were suffering. I wasn't privy to those meetings. I wasn't really paying attention, to be truthful. I was a selfish child."

His eyes watered, and he swallowed and rubbed his chest as if it hurt him. "I still am a selfish child, really. But I want you to know... Noktin did not regret his choice. I found a message for me in his things after... After the mission. One of my disciplinary chores was cleaning out his quarters, putting his things into storage. I found it then. I wish I'd found it sooner.

"In the message, he told me... He knew that he might die. Every Blade is aware of the possiblity of death on every mission, of course, but the chances were particular high this time. They were going straight to the Empire's heart, to Zarkon's personal ship, not as an undercover team but as a strike force. It was meant to be a swift mission, in and out in under a varga. They did everything they could to minimize the risks, but they knew it wasn't enough. They could have died to the last man.

"And Noktin still thought it was the right thing to do. He wanted to rescue you, an innocent cub who had been kidnapped by the Empire and cruelly used. He told me that if he died, his only regret would be leaving me behind."

Gartal was crying now. So was Lance. They tried to be stoic about it, but they were both just adolescent boys trying to understand a loss that had ripped them apart.

"I'm sorry," Gartal said after they both got themselves a little under control. "I didn't want to hurt you. I just wanted to say I was sorry."

Lance nodded. "I understand. Thank you. I think... I understand some things better now, too." His voice was rough and unsteady, but Gartal heard him.

"Would you..." Gartal's voice lightened with hope, now. "Would you like to spar with me sometime?"

Lance swallowed. "I don't... I don't do well with sparring. I get...scared."

Gartal tilted his head. "Who did you partner with?"

"Antok, usually."

Gartal chuckled. "Anyone would be frightened to spar with _him._ You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Lance tried to smile, but it was too hard, still.

"Maybe we could...try? It might be easier with someone who isn't so much bigger than you."

Lance bit his lip. He still wasn't sure he trusted Gartal completely, not with something like this. But he knew he didn't have to make a decision right away. Like Antok, Gartal was giving him an opportunity, not an order.

"I'll think about it. Thank you."

Gartal nodded and smiled, hopeful again. 

They sat there in the starlight, and they understood each other.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/43703669881/in/dateposted-public/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I know how this story is going to end, now. Three or four more chapters, I think. I just need to write it.
> 
> The description for Gartal is based on the lovely design by [ketsalistlis](https://ketsalistlis.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Here are her art posts:  
> [Gartal](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/166184478556/ketsalistlis-inktober-day-2-another-gartal-for)  
> [More Gartal](http://maychorian.tumblr.com/post/166150720056/ketsalistli-gartal-from-maychorians-fic-is-my-new)


	12. Chapter 12

It was a day like any other.

They had fallen into a routine, one that Thace enjoyed. He still thought about retirement now and then, but he still hadn't brought it up to Lance. The cub was settling into the base, now. He had a schedule and regular activities that he enjoyed doing. He even had friends. The relationships were still fledgling and tentative, but Lance was learning how to relate to people. 

He talked about Antok a lot, as well as one of the cooks in the cafeteria, Shanbu. Lance had long conversations with Shanbu, but afterwards he couldn't tell Thace much of what they were about. Shanbu rambled about his life, the Blade of Marmora and its history, the other people on the base and what they did, what their favorite foods were, how they liked to fight. Lance enjoyed listening to him. He always had a particularly happy smile when Shanbu served his food.

More surprising, perhaps, but also more gratifying, was Lance's new friendship with young Gartal. Lance had been trembling lightly when he told Thace about the conversation the two youngsters had had on the observation deck. But his eyes had been bright, his expression awed, so Thace had fought down his protective instincts and let Lance speak without demanding to know if Gartal had hurt him, if Thace needed to hunt him down and give him another lesson in good manners.

No, Gartal had apologized to Lance. He had explained his actions, without excusing himself, and asked for Lance's consideration. Lance told Thace that he hadn't forgiven Gartal, not right away. Or at least he hadn't said so. But Thace could tell by the way he was talking that Lance would forgive the other cub formally soon. Lance had too much sweetness in him, too much light, to refuse a kindness to another person.

And now Lance and Gartal met every quintent or two and tried their hand at sparring together. Antok was particularly pleased with this development. He observed the youngsters in their sessions from afar, then reported to Thace later. According to him, Gartal was unfailingly patient and kind with Lance, letting him slowly get used to the movements and backing off whenever Lance felt frightened or threatened. He was much more gentle than Antok would have been, but he was a taskmaster, too, something he had learned from Noktin. Lance was thriving under his tutelage. He still had a long way to go before he would be an expert in hand-to-hand, or even competent. But he was learning, and he was able to accept the instruction, and both boys ended their sparring matches grinning and laughing in good spirits.

Everything was going well. Thace had no deep concerns on his mind now as he sat in one of the record rooms of the base, going over intelligence from a far-off corner of the universe and putting together an analysis. His mind was full of facts and figures, troop carrier movements and squadron numbers, but always in the background was a deep hum of contentment with the knowledge that his cub was safe and happy and even had friends.

Then Gartal appeared in the doorway, desperate and gasping, grabbing onto the edge with a white-knuckled grip. "Commander Thace!"

Thace looked up sharply, and his hand tightened around the stylus in his fist instinctively, as if it was a knife. Gartal was wide-eyed and sweaty, his expression frightened. This was about the time of quintent when he and Lance usually sparred together. 

Thace pushed to his feet without thinking. "What happened? Is something wrong?" Even as he asked the question, he knew the answer was yes.

Gartal nodded miserably, mouth wide open as he panted. He'd been wearing his mask less and less lately, now that he didn't need it so badly to hide his consuming grief from the other Blades. "It's Lance. He...he collapsed. Master Antok took him to the infirmary. Please come."

Thace was already moving. "Walk with me," he barked. "Tell me what happened. Exactly. Don't miss a detail."

Gartal nodded frantically and trotted to keep up as Thace strode down the hallway, every muscle tense, still carrying that stylus in his fist. "We were sparring. It wasn't anything unusual. He was practicing his strikes, hitting my palm with his fist. Then suddenly he went still, and his eyes widened. He yelped and grabbed at his head and closed his eyes. Then he just...he fell down. On the ground. And he curled up there, holding his head and moaning. I knelt next to him and shook his shoulder and asked him what was going on, but he didn't answer me."

They turned a corner. Gartal kept talking. "When I pulled him over on his back, his eyes were squeezed shut, tears coming out, and his face looked like he was in so much pain…” He shook his head, aghast. “He didn't answer me no matter what I did. It was like he couldn't hear me. Then Master Antok came over and picked him up in his arms. He told me he would take Lance to the infirmary and that I should come get you."

"Thank you." Thace clapped his shoulder, though he didn't stop moving. "You did the right thing."

After that there was no more talking. They both picked up the pace, jogging through the halls. Blades who saw them coming moved quickly out of the way. Either news had spread fast and everyone knew something had happened to Lance, or they could tell the run of a terrified parent when they saw it.

In the infirmary, Thace was barely paying attention to any of the people, instantly zeroed in on Lance's voice moaning in one of the siderooms. He sprinted straight toward the door, clipping someone in the side as he passed them. The person he hit was solid enough that Thace bounced off, and he looked up in a split second of distraction. Then he paused, eyes widening.

"Ulaz! I didn't know you'd made it back."

Ulaz nodded solemnly. "I only returned from the splinter base a few vargas ago. I was going to stop by your quarters this evening, but it seems fate intervened."

Thace shook his head, already turning away. "We'll have to catch up later. I have to go."

Ulaz moved at his side. "I'll come with you. Miraz told me a little about what's going on."

Thace didn't try to dissuade him. He didn't much care who was with him, as long he got to Lance.

In the exam room where Antok had taken him, Lance was curled up on a cot, lying on his side with his knees pulled to his chest and his arms wrapped around his head. He was gasping in pain, near sobbing, and his fingers clutched at his hair. Thace fell to his knees at his head and instinctively started to reach out, then pulled back, not sure if his touch would be harmful or helpful at this point. Lance was clearly overwhelmed by some internal sensation, and outside contact might be too much for him to take right now.

"Lance." He used his voice instead, speaking in the soft, tender tone that had broken through some of Lance's breakdowns in the past. "Cub. I'm here. I'm here for you. Tell me what you need."

Movement at the corner of his vision, and Thace glanced up to see Antok. "He said it's loud."

Thace blinked at him. "Loud?"

Antok nodded, then tilted his head toward Lance. "The cub hasn’t said much since he collapsed. Mostly he's just wept and moaned. But at one point while I was carrying him he managed a few words. He said it's too loud."

Thace looked back to Lance, taking in the way he was clutching his head. "It's too loud inside his mind." He began to have an inkling of what might have happened.

"Lance. Cub." Maybe outside contact was what Lance needed after all. Thace carefully reached out and laid his hand over Lance's head, a part that wasn't already covered up with Lance's forearms and fingers. He had already stripped off his gloves on the way over, the better to comfort his cub. "Are you hearing voices in your head?"

Lance gasped and whimpered, curling up tighter, but he managed a movement that Thace took as a nod.

Encouraged, Thace scooted closer and spread his fingers to cover more of Lance's head. "Then listen to my voice instead. Maybe it will help. I am here. You are in the infirmary at the Blade of Marmora base. You are safe. Whatever voice you are hearing cannot hurt you. It cannot touch you. I will never let anything harm you again."

Lance shuddered, his shoulders shaking. He moved his arms enough to peek out at Thace with one eye, still squinted almost shut with tears leaking out. "Not...not what you think."

Thace frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Not Zarkon's voice. Not...a memory."

Oh. Thace's heart sank. In an instant, he felt his world collapse, the quiet routine and cautious happiness he'd built with Lance crumbling around him. If this wasn't some sort of traumatic reaction, an extreme flashback that had trapped Lance in terrible memories, then there was only one other thing it could be. This was an intrusion of a far worse kind.

Thace's throat hitched as he tried to draw a breath. "Tell me." It was little more than a whisper.

Lance let go of his head with one hand, fingers clawed and clutching at the air. He only needed to move a tiny fraction before Thace's free hand flew to meet him, wrapping around the boy's entire hand in a strong, careful grip. Lance clutched back as he hard as he was able. He opened his mouth, saying what Thace already knew.

"Blue...Lion. It's the Blue Lion. She's in my head again."

Thace's breath caught, and he blew it out through pursed lips. "Okay," he said with forced calm. "Okay. It's going to be okay. I know it was a shock. It must hurt. But I'm sure she doesn't mean you any harm. Can you ask her to be a little quieter?"

Lance whimpered, the muscles of his arm tensing as he gripped Thace's hand. Almost involuntarily, he curled up tighter. His forehead pressed into Thace's arm. "I don't think she knows how. And I don’t know how to ask her."

"Shh. It's okay. We'll figure this out." Thace petted Lance's hair, his heart aching.

It wasn't fair. Lance was finally starting to feel at home, to find his feet. He'd been learning about himself and all the opportunities he could pursue. He had friends. He'd even told Thace, once, that he was _happy._

And now the Blue Lion was dragging him back into the war again. Or she was trying to. If Thace had had the breath, he would have cursed her. How dare she try to take Lance back after rejecting him, after destroying their bond and wounding him both physically and spiritually. Lance deserved better. He deserved a thousand times better. He deserved a home and a family where he was wanted as himself, not merely as a pawn for the war effort.

He deserved retirement on a quiet planet where he could truly find peace. But Thace had never mentioned it to him, and now he saw that dream fading away before his eyes like a cloudy watercolor painting dissolving in the rain. It was a lovely dream, but as he knew now with a feeling of bitter loss deep in his bones, it had always been nothing more than a dream.

"It's t-too loud," Lance whimpered. "Too many voices. I can hear them all again. I missed them so much, but now... I can't stand it. It hurts so bad."

"All right," Thace murmured. "All right. There must be something we can do."

He raised his head, almost reeling, to see Ulaz standing nearby looking as compassionate and concerned as Thace had expected. Like Thace, Ulaz had burned his last undercover identity trying to help a human prisoner of the Galra. Except in his case, he'd been more successful. He had been forced to run and take shelter in a hidden Blade of Marmora base, but he was back now.

If anyone understood what Thace was feeling right now, it was Ulaz. Somewhere beneath all of the pain and guilt and betrayal ripping through Thace’s soul, he was grateful that Ulaz had reappeared on the main base at just the right time.

"Is there something we can give him?" Thace asked. "A painkiller? Or maybe..." He swallowed. He didn't want to force this on Lance, another taking of control, but he couldn't bear to see the cub suffering like this. "...a sedative?"

Ulaz tilted his head thoughtfully. But a hand gripped Thace's arm, and he looked back to see that Lance had let go of his head with his other arm and was now clutching Thace with both hands, face still hidden in Thace's forearm. "No," Lance groaned. "Don't wanna...sleep."

Thace looked up at Ulaz and shook his head, mouth grim. Ulaz nodded softly. "I'll see what I can find for painkillers that won't make him lose consciousness. Humans are delicate, but I've been studying them for some time." 

He strode out of the room, his movements purposeful. Thace watched him go. He was distantly aware that Antok was still with them, keeping watch. Gartal was probably in the outside room waiting for news and biting his claws in nervousness, poor thing. Kolivan was on the way, if Thace knew him at all.

None of that mattered much to Thace at the moment, though. He looked back to Lance and pulled his upper body closer to his chest. "All right. All right. We're going to find something to help you. Just hold on."

"Hurts..." Lance whispered.

"I know. I know." Thace petted his head. Helplessness raged through him like a wildfire. He wanted to kick and scream at the Blue Lion, at the universe, for doing this to a sweet child who had already suffered far too much pain in his short life.

"I've never...tried to talk to her..." Lance went on, his voice ragged and almost inaudible. "I only ever listened. I was always...good at listening."

"I know," Thace murmured. He ran his fingers through Lance's hair, tears stinging his eyes. "From the day I've met you, you've always been a good listener. Interested in other people, in what they have to say. You were so bright-eyed, so curious. You wanted to know everything about everything, the names of the stars outside your window, the way the engines on the ship worked, what your future had in store for you. You've always been very open to the world around you, especially the people in your life. It made you adaptable, flexible, but it also opened you up to be hurt.

"You're so smart, Lance. You're such a fast learner. Do you know how long it's been since we rescued you from Zarkon's ship? Less than two phoebs. And already you've learned so much. You've come so far. I'm so, so proud of you.

"I know it's hard. I know it hurts. But if anyone can figure out how to talk to the Blue Lion and ask her to be a little bit quieter, I know it's you."

Lance rolled his head over to look at him, eyes squinting and rimmed with red, mouth hanging open as he panted for breath. Then he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as he curled into himself again. He pressed his forehead against Thace's forearm, his entire body tense and trembling. Thace leaned down to kiss the side of his head. 

"You can do it," he murmured again. "I know you can."

Lance nodded slowly, shakily, scraping his head against Thace's arm. Then he went still, scrunched up with his face hidden, his body trembling on the bed. Thace continued to reassure him as best he could with his touch and his voice.

Ulaz returned with a syringe. At Thace's accepting nod, he injected the contents into Lance's upper arm. Lance barely twitched, buried deep in concentration. And all Thace could do was watch from the outside, aching, helpless, and feeling horribly alone despite all of the people with him in the room.

"No," Lance moaned, or maybe it was more like a whimper. Thace leaned closer and pressed his hand against his head.

"No, what, cub? What are you refusing?"

Lance's teeth clenched, his eyes twitching behind his closed eyelids. "No," he whispered again, blown out on a pained puff of air.

Then Thace understood. Lance was saying "no" to the Blue Lion.

Thace leaned back slightly, his heart aching like a clenched fist. "You tell her, cub," he murmured. "You deserve better."

Thace felt vindicated that Lance shared his desire to deny this new intrusion. He was also indescribably proud. It was so, so hard for Lance to refuse anything that could even vaguely be interpreted as an order, obedience had been so thoroughly ground into his body and his mind. That he was able to try to deny one of the strongest minds in the universe was another testament to his fortitude, his strength of will.

Then again, maybe Thace shouldn't have been surprised. Lance had also refused Zarkon, after all, when rescue came and he did not follow the dictates of "lesson one."

Lance had found the courage to strike out on his own, to deny the control of another over his fate and choose for himself. Now, he was doing it again. Like Zarkon, the Blue Lion had betrayed Lance's trust in her. He had thought she, as well as Zarkon, were on his side, and both had proved otherwise. 

"Stop," Lance gasped, barely audible. He probably didn't realize he was speaking aloud. His body trembled with the pain and pressure he was suffering, and Thace bent closer and rested his face against his hair.

"No," Lance said again. And again. "No. Stop talking. Listen. Listen to me."

Then he fell silent. Yet still he trembled, his fingers clutching at Thace's arms, latching onto his clothes. He was still fighting, speaking with his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth clenched, lips drawn back in a grimace of pain. Thace bent over him as if he could shelter him from this, as if he could shelter him from anything at all, even though he had never managed to protect his cub in reality. Not even once.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/40446657120/in/dateposted-public/)

Finally, after too many long, fraught moments, the struggle ended. Lance blew out a breath through his nose, then suddenly went limp, falling back against the bed even as his fingers loosened from Thace's arms. His eyes were still shut, but no longer clenched, and he pulled in a huge, shuddering breath, then another and another. His face showed nothing but relief and exhaustion.

Thace still bent over him, unable to look away. He reached out and snagged one of Lance's hands in his own. Lance squeezed him fiercely, then opened his eyes to look at Thace. He immediately squinted as if his head hurt, and Thace raised a hand to shield his eyes from the light.

Thace smiled, the ache in his heart beginning to ease. "You did it," he said. Not a question, because he already knew it was true.

Lance nodded slowly, wearily, his eyes closing and opening again in a long blink. "She’s still there. In my head. I can hear her. But it's not so loud now. I can think again."

Thace frowned. "What is she saying?"

Lance looked miserable. He started to answer, then stopped when Thace shook his head

"Never mind. You don't have to tell me. That's private communication between you and the Blue Lion. You don't owe us any words. None of them. Never again. Do you understand?"

The last part was spat out more fiercely than he'd intended. He'd never meant to emulate Zarkon and the druids who had kept demanding more and more information from Lance. He had asked without thinking, falling into his role as an intelligence officer, but that was not who he was here. In this room, he was only Lance's guardian. His parent.

That was worth much, much more than any intelligence, no matter how valuable.

Lance stared up into Thace's face and gave another slow blink. Then he nodded. "I understand."

Thace relaxed, his grip on Lance's fingers loosening. He had been squeezing him too hard. "You can tell me if you want to," he said more softly. "If you would like to discuss it with me, whatever she's saying, I will be glad to listen and glad to offer my thoughts. But that's up to you. Entirely."

"Thank you," Lance murmured. His eyes trailed up to the ceiling, and his hand squeezed Thace's, soft and warm. "I'm tired now. Is it okay if I sleep?"

"Yes, of course. I'll be here when you wake up."

Lance sighed and nodded, and his eyes fluttered shut. In moments he was fast asleep, utterly worn out by the events of the day. Thace sat with him and held his hand, his gaze never wandering from his cub's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please go tell [artbymaryc](http://artbymaryc.tumblr.com) how gorgeous her art is.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> artbymaryc made TWO amazing, gorgeous, full-color illustrations for this chapter. All bow to her great skill.
> 
> I think this story will be 15 chapters in total.

The Blue Lion was speaking to him again. Lance didn't know how to respond.

After he somehow convinced her to quiet down because the volume and enthusiasm of her voice in his head was literally, physically painful, Lance slept for almost a full quintent. He learned later that Gartal had been terrified and blamed himself, thinking that Lance had suffered a flashback because of their sparring, that Thace had raced to be with him, that the entire base had rallied around him. 

He woke up in his own room to find Thace dozing at his side, sitting on the bed with his back against the wall and Lance's head pillowed on his thigh. Lance looked around and saw his desk piled high with little gifts, candies and hand puzzles and souvenirs. It was the Blades' version of sending flowers. Lance understood that instantly, and he was indescribably touched. But the Blue Lion's voice was still present in his head, no longer painful but still overwhelming. Lance winced and turned to face the wall, squeezing his eyes shut and scrunching up on the bed.

_Lance, I'm sorry. I deeply regret the pain you have suffered. Please accept me again. Please be my paladin._

The Blue Lion was apologizing to him. Lance didn't know how to take it. It was so strange, so terrifying.

She'd never spoken to him directly, not until that last day when she turned her eyes on him and saw his situation, then immediately spoke through his throat and broke the bond. And now she wouldn't stop speaking to him. He didn't understand what had changed.

Though he did not articulate his thoughts in words, the Blue Lion seemed to understand anyway. She spoke, an outpouring of understanding and grief and apology. It wasn’t quite words, more like a waterfall of emotion and memory, but his mind interpreted the flood as words to make it a little easier to understand. He put his hand over his closed eyes and did his best to comprehend the monstrous flow of it all.

_I’ve found you. I’ve found you. I never want to let you go again._

And it continued. So much of it. So much.

_I don’t blame you for being angry with me. Please let me explain. Please let me beg your forgiveness._

_The bond was not severed entirely. I only suppressed it to prevent further harm from coming to you and to Voltron. I could not actually break it, though I understand that it felt like a shattering to you._

_Our bond is extraordinary, little Lance. You must know that. You never should have dreamed of me when you were merely a cub. The universe chose you before you were ready, and your openness and the brightness of your spirit were such that what should have been only a possibility became reality in a very short time._

_I was not aware of it at the time. I was sleeping, as I had been sleeping for millennia, though I dreamed of you. I saw you, my future paladin, and I expected to meet you someday. When the Altean princess came and claimed me, I thought it was only temporary. Then I got caught up in the fight against the Empire and didn't think to look for you. I'm sorry for that, so sorry. If I had sought you sooner, if I had looked back through the bond as you were looking at me, much harm could have been prevented._

_Instead, Voltron, my pride, was run ragged for phoebs. We were constantly harassed by Zarkon and his fleets, his weapons, his magic, his Robeasts. We fought as hard as we could, but we were losing. They always knew exactly where we were; they knew our plans as soon as we made them. They ambushed us at every turn. It was only a matter of time before we would be captured and our paladins killed. Our desperation to prevent that was...blinding._

_That is when I thought to look for you. When I faced the reality of losing the Altean princess, my present paladin, I thought of my true paladin, little Lance from the blue planet. So I looked for you. And I found you. I realized what had been done to you._

_I hurt you. When I rebuked Zarkon for using you and suppressed the bond, I could feel your shock and pain for a moment before it was cut off. I am so very sorry for that, my Lance. It has haunted me ever since. I was unable to move for a full movement, it threw me into such grief and despair. I am so very, very sorry that I caused you pain._

_I never stopped thinking of you. I never stopped longing for you. Though the bond was suppressed, I could still feel the echoes of your spirit. I felt your pain and anguish for the longest time. I was so glad when that began to fade._

_I didn't want to intrude. You needed time to recover and heal. I observed from afar, but I knew I didn't deserve to speak to you again. I thought it might be best to leave you alone forever, even though I still longed for my true paladin every varga of every quintent._

_Recently, I think you would call it yesterday, I felt the echoes of your spirit. You were content and happy, enjoying what you were doing. My heart swelled with joy. I reached out to you before I thought to consider the consequences._

_I should have remembered that I might cause you pain once again. That was not my intention, and I'm sorry, once again, for hurting you. I only wanted to share in your happiness._

_You are my true paladin, little Lance. Now that I have dared once more to look through the bond, I can see that you are in a good place, a safe place, with people who care about you. I'm glad for that. Truly, truly glad. I don't want to take that away from you. I'm sorry I frightened you. I'm sorry that my presence feels like a threat._

_I only want to make you an offer. You are my paladin, and I long for you. Your destiny is here with Voltron. Please come and join us. Please help me fight with my pride._

_There are good people here, too. It won't be as safe as where you are now, but I promise that I will keep you as safe as I can. I am very strong and very fierce, and I can protect you._

_I want you. I cannot reach my full power without you. We are meant to be together._

_Please come to me, my paladin, my cub, my little Lance. I want you with every atom of my being. Please come, and I swear that I will care for you as no one else in the universe can._

Lance was silent, breathing raggedly. Before Thace rescued him, he would have taken this offer without hesitation. This was what he had been taught; he was meant to be the blue paladin. No other path through his life was acceptable, or even possible.

But he had learned a lot since then. Thace and the other Blades had taught him to consider other possibilities. Entire realms were laid out before his feet, not only multiple paths, but a myriad of them.

He didn't have to be a paladin. He didn't have to go back to that life of continual training and fighting, submitting his will to a military organization that commanded him. When he pictured himself there, all he saw was pain.

So the answer was easy. Lance let the words form in his head, hard and sharp, let them fly through the bond like bolts from a sniper's gun.

_Never again._

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/40656620940/in/dateposted-public/)

Blue was silent. So was Lance. 

After a moment, he flailed out a hand, his eyes still closed, and grabbed the first lion plush he found. Running his hand over the fluffy face, he found out it was his own figure. Lance hugged it to his chest and curled up closer to Thace, hiding his face against his stomach. Thace murmured in his sleep and stroked Lance's hair with a heavy hand.

Lance relaxed. His head was quiet, though he could feel the echoes of Blue's pain and grief. He hoped she would suppress the bond again. It was useless to both of them now.

He slept.

X

Blue didn't ask again. She also didn't suppress the bond, and he couldn't figure out how to do it himself. He didn't really try, though, to be fair. He didn't want to touch it. It was too scary, too overwhelming. If he tried to do anything with it, it might suck him in. Lance was sick of losing control of himself to a force that presented itself as benign.

Lance tried to ignore it: Blue, the bond, everything she had told him and asked of him. But he was always peripherally aware of this foreign presence in the back of his mind, like a vine growing through a wall, forcing its way through the brick and mortar.

Part of him want to tear it out. Salt the earth. Build up the brick and mortar taller and stronger so the vine couldn't get in again. The presence was like an itch inside a skull, an irritation he could never scratch, never soothe.

Part of him, though...liked it. It reminded him of those first days, when he hadn't known what this new thing inside his head was, but he knew he liked it. So many nights he had fallen asleep contemplating the little blue thread inside his mind, warm and pulsing and bright with possibility. He had hummed at it, even sung to it. It was a friend when he was lonely and homesick, after Zarkon took him away from Earth and told him what he was supposed to be.

The druids had encouraged him to work with the bond constantly, hoping that he would be able to give them information about Blue and the other lions. Lance had done as he was told, not only because he wanted to be good but also because he liked it. But for years and years, until Allura woke the Blue Lion, the bond was just a warm spot in Lance's head. A possibility not yet grown to fruition.

And now it had. The tiny green shoot had grown into a mighty vine as thick as Lance's thigh, and it was strong and tough and unavoidable. It had grown into his mind, and he couldn't get it out again. He tried to ignore it, but his mind kept returning to it, like picking at a scab.

Worst of all, it was distracting. He didn't have the concentration to spar with Gartal, much to the other cub's disappointment. Nor could he train with Antok or concentrate on his studies. He found himself aimlessly wandering the base, hugging the little Lance lion plush to his chest as if he could control himself if he only held on tight enough. 

The closest thing he found to relief was working in the kitchen with Shanbu. The kitchen fed a huge base of full-grown Galra three meals a day, usually five or six dishes for each meal, so there was always a lot of prep work to do. They probably shouldn't have trusted Lance with a knife, not in his absent and dreamy state, but they let him do what he wanted.

He passed long vargas peeling and cubing tubers for mash, or halving tiny fruits, or cutting the ends off stringy vegetables. Shanbu rambled at him the whole time, words that Lance nodded along to even while he absorbed nothing of their meaning. The blue lion plush leaned against his leg, a soft spot of warmth in a hazy world. It was almost like meditating, and Lance fell into a trance and stayed there, enjoying the opportunity to just...stop thinking for a while.

When he wasn't working in the kitchen or wandering around like a lost child, he followed Thace about his duties. He had done this before, when he was first learning not be afraid to come out of his room. Then, he had hidden behind Thace or tried to disappear into the wall whenever anyone looked at him, or he thought they were. Or he thought someone might look at him. Or he thought anything at all, really. Never speaking, doing his best to make no noise even when he walked, always on edge and unable to shake the expectation that any moment he would be caught and rebuked and punished for being bad, being where he didn't belong…

He didn't feel that way anymore. He didn't cling to Thace because he was afraid and needed safety and reassurance. All right, he needed the feelings of comfort and belonging that Thace’s presence always gave him, but it wasn't because he was afraid of his immediate surroundings. This was much more abstract.

When he was with Thace, the haze retreated slightly, and he was able to think a little more rationally. He remembered everything Thace had taught him, all of the long discussions about freedom and justice and what it meant to be "right" rather than "good." 

Lance still couldn't quite put it all together, despite how hard he had tried to understand. It was still too confusing, too overwhelming, and his head was too full of the lessons he had learned on Zarkon's ship. But being with Thace still felt more comfortable, more in control, than being by himself. Maybe he couldn't think about things the right way, yet, but at least he could try. He could try to reason and understand and work things out.

He still carried that blue lion plush with him everywhere. He didn't really realize he was doing it, most of the time. It just felt somehow necessary. 

It was a new habit, comforting while he was trying to deal with the sudden rearrangement of his head. Another habit was always sitting next to Thace whenever he sat down somewhere, whether at a computer console or a meeting table. In the past, when Lance had followed Thace around, he kept a bit of distance from him unless he needed to ask for a hug, but now he stuck much closer. When Thace sat down, Lance did, too. Then he leaned his head on Thace's arm and closed to his eyes. Thace raised a hand to stroke his hair almost every time, softly and without comment. 

Only like this, leaning against Thace, did Lance dare to do the scariest thing of all. With Thace's touch to anchor him, he found the courage to reach inside himself and connect with the bond. At all other times, he did everything he could to ignore it, even though his attention continually returned to it like trying to scratch an itch. But with Thace as his foundation, he willingly reached for it and tried to understand.

He still didn't speak to Blue, and she didn't speak to him. But he listened. He discovered that if he concentrated, he could sense the other Voltron Lions connected to Blue, and through them, their paladins. In the past, on Zarkon's ship, he must have done this instinctively. Now he had to work for it. But each time he tried, it became easier.

He heard their voices again, the ones he had believed would be his teammates once Zarkon found Voltron and brought them under his rule. Allura, Hunk, Pidge, Keith, Shiro. He heard Coran's voice, too, weaving amongst the paladins, just because they were all so close to him and thought of him so often. Lance's heart ached with old longing, bitter and bloodstained. He had wanted to be among them. He had thought that was where he belonged.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/42465348001/in/dateposted-public/)

And they didn't know who he was. They had no idea. Allura spoke, once, of Blue seeming off, and the paladins speculated that it had something to do with that week months ago when Blue shut down and wouldn't let anyone approach her. Lance knew, now, that that had been the week right after Blue broke their bond. Or suppressed it, whatever. It felt like breaking to Lance, so he supposed he would continue calling it that in his head.

But the other paladins didn't know why Blue had shut down like that. She hadn't told them, not even Allura. Couldn't they talk to each other? Why didn't they know? They had no idea why Zarkon had been able to track them for so long, nor did they know why it had stopped.

It hurt. Lance knew them all so, so well, and they didn't know a thing about him. They didn't know his name. They didn't know his voice. They didn't know his thoughts and feelings and hurts and desires. They didn't even know he existed.

He remembered, too, that Blue had said she and the other lions were scared of losing their paladins. They believed that if Zarkon caught them, their mortal teammates would all be killed. Zarkon had always told Lance that the paladins would become his team. He'd never said anything about hurting them, just that they needed to be convinced to follow the rightful ruler of the universe. They needed to be taught.

Lance, naive and brainwashed, had never thought to question this. Now he did. Blue was so, so certain that Zarkon would kill Allura if he got his hands on her. Now that Lance had seen inside Blue's mind, seen her memories and her emotions and how strong and smart she was, he couldn't say that she was wrong. 

And Zarkon had lied to Lance before. Many times, according to Thace. His method of "teaching" Lance had been far from kind, too. Lance knew the difference, now that he’d had a chance to learn under Thace and Antok and Gartal and even Shanbu.

Maybe... Maybe Blue had done the right thing. When she hurt Lance, broke the bond and ruined his throat and abandoned him to months of torture and imprisonment. Lance rubbed his hand absently over the lion plush in his lap, remembering the whip that tore into his back, the muzzle that kept him from screaming. Blue had done it to save her friends. 

Lance couldn't say she'd made the wrong decision. He didn't want any of them to die, either. Even if he would never get to be their teammate now, never get to meet them and hear their voices in the air instead of just his head, he still felt better knowing that they existed somewhere out in the universe.

Thace petted his hair, and Lance leaned into the touch. "Are you all right, cub?" Thace asked, soft, only for him.

Lance started to nod, then thought about it and gave a shrug. He wasn't all right, not really. Not in any way that mattered. Even if he learned to lie someday, he would never do that to Thace. Thace deserved better from him.

Thace hummed deep in his throat and scratched his fingers through Lance's hair. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Lance breathed out through his nose, slow and steady, thinking. The room they were in was quiet now. Lance was pretty sure there had been a meeting earlier, though he couldn't remember what it was about. Most of the words passed over his head, in one ear and out the other even if he tried to understand. He was pretty sure he and Thace were alone now, no other voices or movement in the room.

He lifted his head and looked around, eyes half lidded. Yes, it was just him and Thace. The hologram table they sat at was still lit up with a display, a star map from somewhere in the universe. Lance stared at it blankly, saw ship positions and markers that signified planets and moons, but he didn't recognize any of it.

He looked to Thace, swallowing thickly against the lump in his throat. His hands squeezed around the blue lion plush clutched against his stomach in his lap. He'd been holding onto it hard, as if it could help him figure everything out.

"Thace," he said, near a whisper. Thace leaned nearer to listen, his face and eyes intent, focused on Lance and nothing else.

Lance swallowed again. "Do you think... Do you think the Blue Lion did the right thing?"

Thace looked troubled. "When? What incident are referring to?" He sounded like maybe he knew, though.

Lance semi-consciously raised a hand, fingers trailing over his throat. "When she...when spoke through me. Told Zarkon and the druids that they would never use me again. Then she broke the bond, left me alone with them. Or...she said it was just suppression. The bond was just suppressed, and now it's not anymore. But it felt like breaking. It felt like destruction."

Thace's face twisted. "You're wondering if she was right to break you like that? To cut you off and abandon you to Zarkon?"

Lance looked down at the plush in his lap. He was squeezing so hard that its shape was distorted, bent in his grip. Just as he had been bent in the grip of everyone who had ever gotten their hands on him. "She did it save her pride. Her family. Zarkon was tracing them through me, and Blue was afraid that her pilot would be killed. That all of them would be killed." He looked into Thace's eyes again. "Was she right?"

Thace leaned back, blinking. His mouth twisted in a snarl. "No."

"But..."

Thace shook his head and reached out again, his hand folding gently, so gently, over Lance's head. "I understand that she was afraid, and she acted on impulse to protect what was in her grasp rather than risk losing it. Her actions were understandable, and they were expedient and efficient, from a certain point of view. That doesn't make it _right,_ though.

"She shouldn't have done that, no. Never. She should have found another way. If she could see you, if she knew where you were and what you were going through, she should have tried to rescue you. She should have spoken to her pride and gotten them to help her. She should have done something, anything else rather than desert you the very moment she fully understood how terribly, how monstrously, you were being used and abused."

Lance's eyes watered. He couldn't keep looking at Thace's face. It was too bright, too hard to see. He looked away, sniffling. "But... But I'm just one person. I'm not that important. She was thinking of the entire universe."

Thace rubbed his hand more firmly over Lance's head. "You are a sweet, kind boy. Heroic and self-sacrificing. You want what's best for everyone, even those who have hurt you terribly. But I am not as kind as you." The pads of his fingers pressed against Lance's head, possessive and strong but not hard enough to hurt. "The Blue Lion thought the universe was worth more than one person. More than you. I disagree. To me, you are worth more than the universe, and much else besides. Perhaps I am ignorant and small-minded. Perhaps I am not the best person to ask this question."

He leaned forward and planted a kiss in the middle of Lance's forehead. "The Blue Lion and I have different priorities, I suppose. But I'm not going to change my mind."

 _Do you think I should be the Blue Paladin?_ Lance almost asked, but he didn't. He smiled and looked down at the plush in his lap, squeezing it against his stomach.

He was pretty sure he knew what Thace's answer would be.

"Lance." Thace's voice was very, very serious. Lance looked up to meet his eyes again.

Thace's shoulders were hunched and he was bent over as he looked at Lance, making himself smaller and less threatening. Lance recognized this posture as what it was--an effort to make Lance feel safer and more in control. Even though he knew what Thace was doing, it still worked. It might have even worked more, knowing that Thace was making such a huge effort to make Lance feel comfortable.

"This is only my opinion," Thace said gravely. "I know you are wrestling with a lot of very difficult questions right now. I know it's hard to figure out, and it's taking a lot of your energy and time. I want you to keep trying to understand it for yourself, all right? Don't take my word as law. I am only one person, and I am very, very biased." The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. "I'm biased in your favor, naturally. I think you know that. I wanted to..."

He sighed and closed his eyes, his shoulders drooping for a different reason now. Lance read grief and sadness there, weariness and exhaustion. He felt horrible for being the cause of such things in the figure of one of the strongest, bravest, kindest people he knew. Then Thace opened his eyes and smiled at him again, wistful and sad.

"If it were up to me, you would be nowhere near this war. Never again, never at all, however I could manage it. I would wish you away to a peaceful planet that has never been touched by the Empire, one where you can live near a beach and go swimming whenever you want, play with the fish and make friends and eat as much candy and fruity foods as your heart desires. Your happiness, to me, is the greatest good in the universe.

"But my wishes mean little. Almost nothing at all. You need to find your own answers to the questions you are struggling with. Whatever you decide, even if your opinions differ from mine, I will accept it. Sometimes there are no right or wrong answers. There are just choices, and we all must make the best decisions we can based on the information we have and the priorities that drive us.

"So... I'll turn it back on you, if you don't mind. Do you think the Blue Lion did the right thing?"

Lance looked down at the floor. His stomach hurt. He squeezed the little plush against his abdomen as if it could ease the pain.

"You don't have to answer right away," Thace murmured. "Or at all. I just...wondered if you'd come to any conclusions, that's all. You don't have to tell me what you're thinking."

"I want to tell you." Lance's voice wavered, and he rubbed his hand over his eyes, quickly, before returning his grip to the plushie. "I want to tell you everything. I just...don't know the words. It's too much. But..."

He drew a breath and let it out. "I don't know if Blue did the right thing. She thought it was the only thing she could do at the time. But she regretted it. It hurt her terribly. So maybe... Maybe it was the wrong thing for her to do for herself, never mind what it meant for protecting Voltron and the universe." _Or what it did to me._

He looked up into Thace's eyes. "She's trying to make it right now. That's why... That's why she reached out to me. So maybe the past doesn't really matter. Maybe we just need to choose how to move forward from here."

Thace nodded gently. "That's very wise, cub. It's good to understand the past, good to accept it and learn from it, but we can't let it paralyze us, either. Do you think you're getting closer to finding that way forward for yourself?"

"Maybe." Lance drew a shaky breath. "I don't know yet. It's so hard. And thinking this much makes me really tired."

"Poor cub." Thace tsked and laid his hand over his head, ruffling his hair tenderly. "It's not fair."

Lance shook his head under Thace's hand, relishing the feeling, the weight and kindness of his touch. "No one ever said that life would be fair."

That was something his mother used to say, back on Earth.

"No, I guess not," Thace murmured.

Part of Lance wished that Thace would just tell him what to do. It would make things easier. But nothing was easy, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please go tell [artbymaryc](http://artbymaryc.tumblr.com) how gorgeous her art is.


	14. Chapter 14

Lance wanted to gain enough equilibrium to go back to his lessons: history, language, programming, and mathematics in his self-study sessions, as well as hand-to-hand with Gartal and his brand-new piloting lessons with Regris. As it was, he was too distracted to concentrate on anything complicated. He could barely dress himself in the morning.

He had already told Blue no. Never again. That should have been his final decision. Everything should be done now. But he couldn't let it go. His brain just kept going back to it.

What if he changed his mind? What if he said yes and joined Voltron and became a paladin after all? Would his life be worse or better? Would it be a more moral decision to choose to fight for freedom and justice rather than remaining with Thace, sheltered and protected like a tiny, injured cub?

Lance didn't know. There was too much he didn't understand.

He knew joining Voltron would be hard for him. Even the idea of it made him shiver and shrink in on himself. He didn't want to be in the military again. He would have to follow orders and be obedient. Even Thace had to obey Kolivan when he was given an order. That was just the way the military worked, any military. In a way, it would be like returning to Zarkon, just with a different person commanding him.

Lance didn't know if he could handle that again. He might break under the pressure. Being a good boy was so hard, and it hurt so much.

But he knew Voltron was different than Zarkon, too. Lance sat on his bed surrounded by his plush lion dolls, looking around at each of them, taking them in. He knew these people so well. Hunk, Pidge, Keith, Shiro. Now, with the bond wide open, he could hear their voices the way he used to. 

They were kind to each other. They supported each other even when things were hard. Sometimes they got stressed and yelled; sometimes they fought or disagreed on important issues. But at the end of the day they were still able to eat together and laugh at each other's jokes. They weren't like Zarkon. Maybe the rules would be a little easier there, or the punishments for disobeying wouldn't be so harsh.

Lance still felt that old tugging at his chest. That longing had never really gone away, not even when the bond was silent. He wanted to be part of something bigger than himself. He wanted to be a hero, on a team of heroes, fighting for the good of the universe. He wanted to be accepted and loved for who he was and what he could do, not just protected like a child and a victim. He wanted to stop being passive and be active.

And he could have that with Voltron. That was what Blue kept offering, over and over and over, even without words. If Lance tried to translate into words the sense and emotion that pulsed through the bond, never stopping and never slowing down, it would be something like, _I want you. I love you. Be with me. Be my paladin. I never stopped loving you. I never stopped wanting you. I never will. Please be with me._

It was hard to deny that. Hard to say no every tick of every quintent, and that was what Lance was doing right now. Every instant that he did not respond to that constant, overwhelming flow of feeling from the Blue Lion of Voltron, he was saying no. No, I won't be with you. No, I won't be your paladin. No, I don't want your love.

It felt cruel. Lance hated being cruel. And it was exhausting, too. It took up all of his energy, just refusing to answer the Blue Lion's call.

Despite himself, Lance was getting worn down.

If things kept going like this, Lance was going to give in eventually just because he was tired. That wasn't right. If he was going to choose to be a paladin, for real this time, he wanted it to be on his own terms. He wanted to make the decision with his eyes wide open, for his own sake and no one else's. It had to be the right thing for _him,_ not just the right thing for the universe. If he gave in out of some sense of obligation or guilt, he would resent his life and he would never happy. Thace was right when he said that Lance needed to find the answer for himself. Thace was right about a lot of things.

One night, Lance woke up shivering, deep in the dark watches. He'd been having a nightmare. He was back on Zarkon's ship, in the time after Blue broke the bond. He was being beaten, whipped, muzzled. They were teaching him how to shoot. How to die. How to kill himself. He woke sobbing and terrified, clutching the blue lion plush in his arms as if he could protect himself.

He felt Blue's grief and pain through the bond, her overwhelming guilt and remorse. She could see his dreams, at least enough to understand what they were about. She was so sorry, so sorry. If she could go back and change things, she would. But she couldn't. Lance couldn't either. That was something they had in common.

Lance stumbled to his feet. He was shaking. Tears streaked his cheeks. He wanted this to end.

He dragged the starry blanket around his shoulders, the blue lion doll clutched under his arm. He staggered to the door and opened it, peering out into the hall with watery eyes. It was empty. Thace was in his room. Lance could go to him, climb into his bed and curl up with him. Thace would wrap his arms around him and hold him tight. Lance had done that a few times in the past when he woke up from nightmares, so he knew it was an option.

It wasn't what he needed, now. He needed to figure this out. He needed to decide the course his life would take. Either he needed to suppress the bond with Blue himself, shutting it down from his end, or he needed to open himself fully and accept everything she had to offer. This in-between state was destroying him. It could not stand.

He went to the observation deck, leaning against the wall on one shoulder the whole and dragging himself along. A Blade tried to stop him, asked if he was all right, if he should get Thace, but Lance shook his head and stumbled on. He needed to figure this out.

He didn't sit in the risers on the observation deck. He dragged himself directly down to the giant windows and sat on the floor. He crossed his legs and closed his eyes, pulling the blanket around to wrap himself in a cocoon, his arms twined around the plush in his arms. He felt the starlight pulsing beyond his closed eyelids, bursting across his vision in bursts of yellow and pink and gold and red.

He was alone. No Thace to anchor him, no Shanbu to distract him with rambling stories. Nothing but Lance and the universe. And the Blue Lion. Always the Blue Lion. In some ways, the Blue Lion was the universe. She represented everything that Lance was not, everything that was outside himself. She was the hope of heaven and the terror of hell all bound up in one.

It was time to end this. Lance opened himself fully to the bond, throwing away his fear and letting himself fall into the void. It was like jumping over a waterfall, being swallowed by raging rapids, giving himself over to a current that tugged him deep, deep into the bottom of the sea. Lance allowed it to happen. He opened his eyes in this inner space and found himself faced with the Lion herself, gigantic glowing yellow eyes set in a face of blue the size of a mountain. And he discovered that he could breathe underwater, after all.

She looked at him, solemn and silent, a monolith of power and awe.

 _Do you see me, Blue?_ Lance asked.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/27849939297/in/dateposted-public/)

_I see you, little Lance._

_Did you see my dreams?_

_Not all. Only a corner. They were jumbled. But I felt your pain._

_You did me the kindness of showing me what it felt like to you, the day you broke the bond. Let me show you what it meant to me._

He took a moment to gather it all up, a big bundle of memories and emotions. The decaphoebs, years, he had spent on Zarkon's ship learning that he was meant to be the blue paladin. His yearning to be part of Voltron's team, the harsh training he had followed willingly to shape himself into the perfect warrior under Zarkon's command. The pain of the discipline the Empire enforced on him, the loneliness and isolation of his years of solitude. The sicknesses he endured to prove his obedience, the beatings he accepted to show his loyalty. All so that he could follow his fate and be her paladin.

Then, the day she broke the bond. The shock and anguish when she disapproved of everything he had done and endured, the agony and despair when she cut him off. The destruction of his throat, the burning in his lungs, the throbbing of his back as the whip came down again and again.

The months afterward, the rejection of his Emperor, his new training as an expendable soldier. The cold cage where he was kept, the harsh muzzle that bit into his head and mouth, cutting up his lips and tongue so the blood ran down. The lessons he learned and ultimately did not follow. The grief and emptiness that consumed him, the knowledge that he had failed for reasons he didn't understand. He wasn't good enough. He could never be a paladin. He was broken, useless, worthless, unwanted, unloved, ugly, disgusting, a waste of space.

He gave all of this to Blue. It flowed out of him like a river, like a flood. She needed to know all of this. She needed to understand who he was.

She had rejected him once. Let her do it again now, and close the bond, and end this farce. Lance would never be the blue paladin.

Maybe when Lance had rejected Blue, _never again_ , it was to prevent her from doing it to him. He had hidden that from himself in the beginning, but now all was laid bare.

_I can't be your paladin. I couldn't, even if I wanted to._

But Blue did not reject him. The indigo depths Lance was drowning in began to turn gold, illuminating softly, then more and more brightly. It was as if every particle was made of sunlight. But it didn't burn. It didn't hurt. The light embraced Lance, wrapping around him fondly, lovingly. As if it knew him. As if it had been waiting for him.

And her feelings, her response to his story, his pain… It was overwhelming. Grief, sorrow, guilt, anger, all of that in enormous measure. Blue was gigantic, and so were her emotions. They buffeted Lance in mighty waves, even while she held him safe in her paws. And behind it all was love, love like an ocean, like a universe. _I love you I love you I love you,_ and _I’ll never let anyone hurt you again,_ and _I’m so sorry I added to your pain,_ and _please forgive me,_ and _you never should have suffered like that,_ and _you are not ugly, you are beautiful, you are not unwanted, you are treasured, you are not worthless, you are invaluable._

It kept coming in wave after wave, warm and huge and almost unbearable. _I love you I love you I love you I’ll never stop loving you all of this has only made me love you more._

Eventually the waves of emotion began to slacken, though the love remained, surrounded Lance, holding him and protecting him. They were silent for a long time, just absorbing each other’s presence. They knew each other now, in the most profound way possible. They both knew everything there was to know. 

Lance wasn’t angry at Blue anymore. It surprised him, a bit, to realize that he had been. The Blue Lion of Voltron was too huge and overpowering to be angry at, it seemed. Being angry at her was like being angry at a star, or at a solar system. She just was. There was no point. But she had hurt him, and buried underneath all of the pain and despair and his desperate attempts to put himself together, he had been angry at her rejection. Now that was soothed, though not quite forgiven. Forgiveness would take longer this time than it had for Gartal. 

He knew it would come, though. So did Blue. She knew everything now. She even knew more than Thace. And she still hadn’t rejected him. She still wanted him. She still loved him. 

At last came the question, inevitable and dreaded. _Do you not want to be my paladin, little Lance?_

Sadness in the great lion's voice, but also a deep pulse of certainty. Lance had shown her everything. She already knew the answer. She knew the truth he had fled from, afraid to see it in himself. 

Lance gasped, breathing in water and breathing out light. A feeling like tears surged inside his chest, though he could not cry here. He was already bound in water, surrounded by it. Blue had given it all to him, and he had nothing more to add. 

_You know I do,_ he whispered. _I want it more than anything. But I can't._

_Yes, you can. I'll help you._

She showed him a vision. It was not the future--the lion of oceans was not made for that kind of sight. It was a vision of the present, of the team that waited for them back on the Altean ship. Allura, Coran, Shiro, Keith, Hunk, and Pidge. They were sitting around a table, laughing and talking as they ate some kind of meal. There was an empty place at the table. 

Then Lance came through the door. He was dressed in clothes he didn't recognize, but they reminded him of Earth fashions. Jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, a green jacket with orange bands on the arms. He walked in smiling, his hands in his pockets, his gait calm and assured. Everyone turned to greet him, waving and laughing. Hunk patted the seat next to him, gesturing for Lance to sit with him. 

Lance moved to obey, and Shiro patted his shoulder as he passed. Keith smirked, Pidge poked him with her spork. Hunk ruffled his hair. Coran and Allura smiled from the other end of the table. 

The vision faded, and Lance reached out a hand, trying to bring it back. His chest ached with unbearable pressure, like the weight of all the oceans in the universe was piled on top of him. He wanted it. He wanted. 

_You can have it. It's already yours. Please, little Lance. Your place at the table has been empty long enough. I've been wanting you and waiting for you all this time, just as you've been waiting for me._

Lance drew a shuddering sigh. _What about Thace? He wants me, too. I don't want to leave him._

Blue made a mournful sound that rolled through the water in deep waves of grief. _Thace never should have suffered this pain of loss, either. But he is better and happier for having known you. He will never stop wanting you, just as I will never stop wanting you. Isn't it good to know that you are loved twice over, with the fire of a thousand suns and the depths of a hundred thousand oceans? Does that not comfort you? I would give you all the comfort I could, my precious paladin._

_I don't want to choose between you._

A warm current ran between them, amusement and humor. _Then bring him along. He will be welcome in the Castle of Lions, too. At least, I and my siblings will welcome him with full hearts, in honor of his care and kindness to you, our missing piece._

Lance's heart panged. _I don't think it's that easy. He has duties here, friends and family in the Blade of Marmora. He can't just pick up and leave._

_No, it is not easy,_ Blue said solemnly. _Nothing ever is. You are growing roots among the Blade, too. I know I am doing a cruel thing, asking you to pluck yourself up and come to me, instead. But I can't help being cruel in that way. I want you more than anything. The Blade of Marmora will just have to learn to do without you._

Lance shivered. He realized, with a jolt of something akin to horror, that the Blue Lion was not exactly a moral creature. None of the lions were. They were constructs of power and might and arcane magic, and they served whoever controlled them, whether that was Zarkon of the Galra or Allura of the Alteans. 

And Zarkon had been trying to do the same to Lance. He'd been trying to turn him into a machine who only did what he was told, nothing else. Lance was free now, but he was still learning what that meant. Thace was teaching him, and he was learning on his own, but he had a long way to go. 

Lance didn't know who he _was._ It didn't help to go backward in his mind to before he was taken by the Galra, either, because he wasn't that person anymore. He wasn't a child, not really, though Thace and the other Blades often treated him like one. He was still young, but he had grown up. He was old enough to make his own choices and face the consequences. 

Choices could have good outcomes, like when he decided to forgive Gartal and started sparring with him. Or they could have bad outcomes, like when he ate too much and got sick. Both of those incidents had been difficult in their own way, but they had belonged to Lance. He had done them on his own. There was something magical and powerful in that. 

And now he had to make another choice, the first really big, really consequential choice of his life. To be the blue paladin, or to stay with Thace and the Blade of Marmora. Both could have good consequences. Both could have bad consequences. Lance couldn't see far enough ahead to know which was better for him or for the universe. 

Like Thace told him, he just had to make the best decision he could based on the information he had, following the priorities that drove him. 

Lance breathed deep of the living water that surrounded him in the bright light of the bond. He tasted its sweetness, felt it flowing over his tongue and down his throat. It felt good, warm and nourishing, light to the touch and easy on the body. Blue was good to him, even if she was not "good" herself. 

Blue was not a moral creature. But Lance was. He had agency and purpose, wants and desires. He had a family behind him, lost in the past on planet Earth. He had a family before him, the Voltron team in the Castle of Lions. And he had a family now, Thace sheltering him, Blue reaching out for him. 

Lance knew the truth. He wanted to be the Blue Paladin. There were a lot of reasons for it, some of them selfish and some of them noble. He was afraid, not least of his own heart. What if he was wrong? What if he was condemning himself or others for a childish wish? 

But here, buried in the light of his bond with the Blue Lion of Voltron, Lance found courage, too. He knew the way ahead would be hard. He knew it would hurt. Tearing himself away from Thace and the Blade would be painful in a thousand ways. The Voltron team might have trouble accepting him, too. Lance knew how close Allura and Blue were now, and he knew how much it would hurt the Altean princess to be set aside by the lion she had come to think of as her own for a strange boy she had never met. 

But here, in this moment, he knew that it would be worth it. No matter what the future held, he would take it in and accept it, with Blue at his side. 

_Yes. I will be your paladin._

The deed was done. Blue's joy exploded, blinding light flooding the bond so fast and hard that Lance was forced to retreat, laughing and wincing in equal measure. He found himself sitting on the observation deck, tears streaming down his cheeks, the blue lion plush clutched tight in his hands. 

He pushed to his feet and went back to his quarters, the starry blanket dragging behind him on the floor. He bypassed his own room and went straight to Thace's door, which opened at his touch on the pad. And he crossed to Thace's bed and climbed into it, snuggling into Thace's arms, against his chest. 

Thace murmured in his sleep and tugged Lance instinctively closer. Then he went still as he woke, and his arms tightened around Lance's form. His breath rumbled in his chest, and he released a puff of air that rustled Lance's hair. "Cub." A soft murmur, heavy and resigned. "You made up your mind, didn't you?" 

Lance nodded into his chest and curled up even closer to him. He'd dropped the blue lion plush on the floor, no longer needed. "I'm going to be the Blue Paladin. I have to. And I want to." 

Thace sighed, sorrowful and understanding. He rubbed his huge paw over Lance's back. "All right. We'll tell Kolivan tomorrow." 

The decision was made. Lance's head was quiet, no longer that tug, that draining exhaustion. He slept, deep and dreamless, and woke the next morning to a brand-new world.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is finally complete! It's been quite a journey. Two art pieces from [artbymaryc](http://artbymaryc.tumblr.com) this time. She is also doing a giveaway for some of the traditional art she made for the story, so please go fill out [this form](https://goo.gl/forms/IwGFg7FmMEdzzVrD3) if you're interested in getting some. Here is her [tumblr post about it.](http://artbymaryc.tumblr.com/post/176417690877/your-scars-are-beautiful-too-and-on-the-mend-is)
> 
> New art has also been added to chapters 2, 7, 8, and 11.

They were in the Castle of Lions. A ship of legend, of myth. Thace had never dreamed of setting foot here, even after he joined the unit surrounding the future Blue Paladin and it became known that this ship was flying around the universe again. At times, the conception of it had been hazy and paradisical in Thace's mind. He had dreamed of helping Lance escape, helping him reach this heavenly place. At other times, it had felt like an enemy.

It still felt like an enemy ship now. Thace felt that he was treading somewhere forbidden, stepping into these gleaming, ancient halls. A deep part of him resented being here. They were the grudges that he would no longer express, having spoken his piece once, and once only. Lance had made his decision, and Thace would do nothing to gainsay him.

Still, it rankled. It was a good thing that Thace was so skilled at hiding his emotions. Again, he was undercover, showing only the face of an ally, while underneath it all he had to restrain himself from tearing this place apart from the inside.

It was frustrating, because he couldn't blame any of the people he saw, the faces he looked into, for the pain Lance had suffered. On Zarkon's ship, at least he had been able to fantasize about how someday he would cause suffering to the ones who had hurt this innocent cub. He could look into the faces of the very Galra who hurt Lance and imagine them torn and broken, shattered under his claws. He couldn't do that here. None of them were at fault.

They hadn't even known that Lance existed, and now that they did, they had accepted him with very little argument. Oh, Thace could see the resentment in the princess's eyes, the seething rage that boiled under the skin of the Red Paladin. But once the Blue Lion had opened to Lance and let him into the heart of her great, robotic being, his belonging here could not be questioned.

Thace liked the others better. The Yellow Paladin and the Black Paladin had both been very welcoming, in their own ways. The Green Paladin was young and curious, and she watched Lance with a glimmer of compassion in her amber eyes. Thace didn't quite trust them with his cub yet, but he knew he would soon.

The advisor with the orange mustache also seemed like a good fellow. Thace felt instant kinship with that one, when they met eyes across the way in the hangar where the Voltron crew met Lance for the first time. That one was an old soldier, and he had recognized Lance's wounds the instant he saw him, then looked to Thace for confirmation. Thace nodded, and the advisor looked back to Lance with tears in the corners of his eyes.

Yes, Thace could trust these people. Eventually. Even the princess and the red one would be won over soon enough, he had no doubt. Lance had a way of worming his way into the hearts of everyone who met him in very little time. Even Kolivan had fallen under his spell, and young Gartal, initially hostile, had wept openly when he and Lance had their farewells.

Still, he hated it. Hated that these people hadn't rescued Lance earlier, that they didn't know him. That he hadn't been with them from the beginning, where he belonged. The Blue Lion had been on Earth, even. That might have contributed to how quickly and powerfully the bond between her and Lance had formed. And yet it had been the princess who claimed the Blue Lion, after the other paladins had made their way into space by different means. Thace could imagine a different universe, one in which Lance had found the Lion on earth and joined her then, as he should have, then ferried the other humans into space with him.

It would have been a better universe. A kinder one. Instead, though, they had this. 

Thace supposed he hated the universe, too. Maybe he needed to spend more time meditating on the observation deck. Something to think about when he got back. Ulaz would approve.

Ulaz was worried about him, beneath his elation at being reunited with his own cub again. Keith. The Red Paladin. Thace still couldn't quite put the two of them together in his mind. He hadn't been around for long when Keith was a cub on the Blade of Marmora base, since he was assigned undercover soon after the child arrived, but he remembered a tiny, cherubic human boy who laughed and clapped his little hands and hung on Ulaz's every word. The Red Paladin was not that cub anymore.

Lance was not the cub he had been either. Neither on Zarkon's ship, nor on the Blade base. The thing Thace hated the most about coming here was...that.

Lance had regressed. Almost the instant they stepped foot into this ship. Thace had seen it right away, but he didn't know how to confront the child about it yet, or even if he should. In many ways, it felt like being back at square one, that very first day when Lance was so terrified he couldn't speak, couldn't meet anyone's eyes, could barely move sometimes under the paralysis of fear.

Of course it wasn't quite that bad. Lance could talk, when he was spoken to. He was able to look into his new crewmate's eyes, often with a hopeful trepidation. He knew these people the way he hadn't known anyone on the Blade base, since he'd been watching them in psychic visions for so long. That made things a little easier.

But Lance was still so, so frightened. Thace could see it, even if the others couldn't. Lance kept watching the corners of rooms. He was looking for cameras, probably, like there had been on Zarkon's ship, constantly monitoring him so that he could be instantly punished for the slightest faults. He flinched when someone moved too sharply and often shrank back at Thace's side, nearly hiding behind him. He got tongue-tied when he tried to speak and sometimes ended up just staring miserably at the person who was trying to engage him in conversation, incapable of responding.

And Thace understood it, at least a little bit. Lance was back in a military situation again. He had willingly chosen to be here, but that didn't change his body's engrained reactions and responses to the environment. He expected to be rigidly controlled and harshly treated, because that was what the military was, in his experience. Thace had tried to tell him that it was different here, but Lance had just nodded softly and said he already knew.

It didn't help. Like Lance had said, once--he knew it in the high-up parts of his brain, but he couldn't bring it down to a lower level. Right now, the years and years of indoctrination and brainwashing and constant, unrelenting abuse were simply much, much stronger in his mind and heart than a few phoebs of freedom and comfort. Lance would need time to get used to his new environment, time to learn that this place was much more "castle" than "ship." It was primarily a home, secondarily a base of operations for the most powerful force opposing the Galra Empire. Thace knew that quite distinctly, but it wasn't something he could teach Lance. Lance would just have to learn on his own.

This group was barely military at all, in Thace's estimation. Yes, the Black Paladin was nominally the leader, but that only applied in battle situations, and even then he constantly asked for the others' input and ideas. In training sessions, the Altean princess took the lead more often, and she was a strict drill sergeant who would have made even Antok proud. But at other times she deferred to the group, or traded ideas with the Black Paladin and her counselor. And in the more domestic moments, it was the counselor who took charge. Sometimes even the Yellow Paladin. Or no one at all.

They were a military unit, sure. Sometimes. But much more often, they functioned like...a family.

So, yes. Eventually, Thace would be able to trust these people with his cub. He knew it was coming. Not just yet, though. He would be selfish for a little while longer, stay here for a little while longer. Take care of his child for a little while longer. It was hard to let go.

Then one night the Red Paladin came to see him. Keith. Keith came to see him. Thace looked up at the knock on the door, the gruff voice calling for him to open up. Bemused, he stepped over to the door panel and keyed it. Keith barely waited for the door to open wide enough to let him in before he barreled through and started pacing the floor, scowling at the ground with his arms crossed over his chest.

Thace watched him for a moment. Keith was clearly working up to something. He shut the door, sensing that this conversation should be kept private. "Can I help you?" he asked in as mild and neutral a tone as he could muster.

As if that was the last push he needed, Keith whirled on him. His face was drawn out in a snarl, his hands coiled in fists as his sides, he stalked up to Thace and all but yelled up into his face. "Why didn't you save him sooner?"

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/41894475830/in/dateposted-public/)

Instantly, Thace understood. His heart dropped into his belly, and he felt almost faint. He leaned back against the wall behind him, slowly enough that it would have looked casual. "You saw something," he said solemnly.

"Something," Keith echoed bitterly, jerking his head away as if he couldn't bear to look into Thace's face. Thace didn't blame him. Sometimes he couldn't look at his own face, either.

Keith paced a few more steps, his fists jammed into his armpits, then turned to face him again. His shoulders were hunched, his body language almost protective. As if he was wounded and trying to prevent more harm from coming to himself. Well, some sights were like that. "You know what they did to him. You knew. Knew. For all the years you were there."

Thace sighed. "I didn't know the entire extent of it. I didn't know it had progressed to actual whipping until I was forced to adminster one myself. But I knew Lance was being abused, yes. I knew he was being brainwashed and manipulated. I had to sign off on his schedules myself. I spoke to Haggar and Zarkon in regular meetings about his progress, his training. I was deeply embedded in his daily life. And you're right, I should have saved him sooner."

His hands, too, closed into fists, trembling at his sides. It was not out of misplaced aggression or a desire to confront, like Keith. It was reaction to the pain and guilt that gripped his innards. He squeezed his fists, feeling his nails bite into his palms.

"I don't ask you to understand why I didn't save him," he said. "I don't ask to you to agree. There were reasons, certainly. They all made perfect sense at the time. I was in a high position of trust and power within the Galra Empire, the highest a member of the Blade had ever reached. I had great resources at my fingertips, and I was able to send invaluable intelligence back to my commanders. I even had insight into Voltron itself, including access to the actual Blue Paladin. It was unbelievable, unprecedented. We had never experienced such success before, and we were nigh drunk on it. That is no excuse, simply an explanation.

"For a long time, I was able to make myself not care about Lance, this little human cub who had come under my watch. Sacrifices must be made in war, especially while undercover. You understand this, since you went undercover yourself. In making ourselves observers, we disallow the natural need to rescue, to nurture, to protect. To watch and never _do_ is an awful burden. I don't blame you for breaking under that pressure and choosing to rescue a victim of the Galra Empire instead of watching any longer. Now, looking back, I wish I had done the same. I should have taken Lance away from the situation long, long ago, never mind the loss it would have been to the Blade in intelligence and position."

He lifted his chin and looked Keith in the eye. The young paladin looked back at him, his jaw trembling, his eyes bright. "I cannot go back and change the past, as much as I long to do so. All I can do is move forward from here. And that means that whatever Lance needs, I will provide it. Mother, father, friend, advisor, comforter, teacher... Whoever he needs me to be, I will be that person. I even made the terrible, terrible decision to let him go when he chose to be the Blue Paladin, though it nearly destroyed me."

Keith sucked in a rough breath. "You didn't want him to come to us."

Thace shook his head. "No. Never. The Blue Lion has caused him too much pain, too much damage. Lance has suffered wounds that will never entirely heal. When he first arrived at the Blade of Marmora base, phoebs ago, he could barely talk. He couldn't look anyone in the eye. He was terrified of doing something wrong and being punished. After a long time, he began to gain some confidence. He spoke, he made friends, he smiled and sang and enjoyed his food. He even said he was happy, once."

Keith blinked rapidly. Thace could see that he understood how rare that must have been. How precious.

"And now that we're here in this castle, he's gone back almost all the way to the beginning. He's terrified again. If I could take him home, I would do so this instant. I _will_ take him away immediately if he ever asks. But he chose to come here. He chose to be the Blue Paladin. And I will support him, no matter how much it pains me to see him struggling again. He deserves to be his own person and make his own decisions."

Keith swallowed, hard, then took another step closer. His clenched fists raised into the air, and he leaned forward with the intensity of his feeling. "I'm going to help him. From now on. I won't let him be afraid anymore."

Something let go in Thace's chest, a small cascade of affection. Finally, he was able to reconcile the young man in front of him with the small cub he had known so many deca-phoebs ago on the base, fierce and loving and bursting with energy. This was Ulaz's cub, this was Keith, the Red Paladin. No longer a stranger to keep at arm's length, but a true friend and ally. Young and untested, perhaps, but loyal and strong in his convictions.

"I hope you told him that," Thace said gently.

Keith nodded eagerly. "Yes, I did. I saw... I saw his back, and he talked to me about how it happened. He told me all the rules he had to follow and what the punishments were." Keith had to stop and swallow at that, looking sick and pale. Then he shook it off and leaned forward again, his fists squeezing tighter. "He thinks he's stupid because he's having trouble understanding that he didn't deserve that, like you told him. So I said I would help him figure it out. He's not alone anymore. He'll never be alone again. I won't let anyone hurt him."

Thace suddenly had to blink back tears. He stepped forward, reaching out, and paused when Keith flinched in surprise. He reached out again, slower this time, and Keith held still. He closed his hands around Keith's clenched fists and carefully pried them open, then held them in his own.

"Thank you, little cub," he murmured. "I'm very glad to hear that. You give me hope that maybe someday Lance can be happy here, too."

Keith nodded and squeezed Thace's hands in return, then let go. "We all care about him, we really do. Well, Allura is still upset, but the mission is too important for her to be mean to Lance, even if she doesn't care for him. Hunk and Pidge are already trying to make friends with him, and Shiro and Coran are both really protective of him and want to help him."

Thace nodded slowly. He could see all that, too. It heartened him that Keith still remembered his observation and analysis skills enough from his Blade training to be able to catalogue those facts, even while he was dealing with his own issues.

Keith looked down at his hands, no longer clenched into fists, then looked into Thace's face and went on. "It bothered me at first how easily everyone else let him in. I'm still angry about all the information the Empire got from him that let them hurt us, especially... Especially my family. But I get it now. I understand that Lance didn't give that information away. It was taken from him."

"You're right," Thace said. "Lance was brainwashed and manipulated. He thought he was doing the right thing. All he ever wanted was to join you, to be on your team, and Zarkon told him that this was the way to do it."

Keith nodded and rubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah. I...I get it now. I'm sorry it took me so long."

Thace shook his head. "It's all right. You're young, and you've suffered a lot of pain and loss in your life. You have a right to be angry. But if you need someone to blame for how the Empire was able to harm you and yours using information from the Blue Paladin, don't blame Lance. He is innocent. You should blame Zarkon. I know Zarkon can be blamed for many, many awful things in this universe, but most especially for this one. He lied to Lance with his own mouth, and ordered his punishments, too. Or blame me for failing to save the child long ago. I certainly blame myself every single quintent."

Keith sighed and took a step back, closer to the door. "No. That was more misplaced aggression. I do that a lot. I need something close by to fight, so I feel like I have some control over the things that hurt me. Shiro has warned me many times about how I do that. Ulaz, too. And still, I do it again." He chuckled ruefully. "I think I'm the stupid one, not Lance."

Thace shook his head, longing to reach out. But though he felt much closer to this cub now, he still wasn't his parent. He couldn't hug him the way he could Lance when he was feeling bad. 

Keith gave him a smile, as if he understood. "Good night, Thace. Thank you for talking me, and for not smacking me down like you should have when I barged in here yelling like an idiot. You're very patient and kind. I'm glad you're here to look after Lance."

"Good night, cub," Thace said gently, and Keith saw himself out.

Thace sat down on the bed and tried to stop thinking. He was usually able to repress his feelings of guilt and self-blame over what had happened to Lance, what he was still suffering. He knew it was no help to either him or Lance, so there was no use dwelling on it. It had nearly paralyzed him for movements after his initial escape from Zarkon's ship, while he was still frantically trying to put together a rescue mission, before Kolivan agreed that it was necessary and took over the organization efforts. 

After Lance had been rescued, he'd been able to put those feelings away, he thought for good, because he had much more immediate issues to deal with. Devoting every varga to caring for Lance and helping him recover had been an effective block to his regret over failing Lance in the past, it seemed. But now the feelings were back, and he was having a hard time putting them away again.

While Thace still sat there, trying to master himself, a tentative knock came at the door. Thace looked up, eyebrows rising. He hadn't expected one visitor tonight, let alone two. "Come in," he called.

After a few ticks, the door opened, and there stood Lance. Thace started to smile in greeting, then paused. Lance was standing at the side of the door as if trying to hide, his shoulders hunched and his arms wrapped around his body. He was wearing the soft clothes the Alteans had provided, the flowing blue shirt and trousers he preferred to wear at night, but at this moment he almost seemed to be huddling inside them.

He looked...afraid. Of Thace, this time. Yet he didn't leave. He stood there in the doorway, wavering, as if he wanted to come in and wanted to leave at the same time. Thace sucked in a breath through his teeth, trying to understand.

Oh. Keith had said that he saw Lance's back. Lance was always so wary of being seen, afraid of exposure...it must have been a shock. Lance usually came to Thace for comfort when he was uncertain about something. But he didn't want Thace to see, either, thus his hesitation.

Instead of saying anything, Thace simply relaxed where he sat and shifted so the space next to him was open, his arm stretched back. Lance shifted from foot to foot, then, as Thace had hoped, he came over and sat next to Thace on the bed and snuggled into his side. Thace wrapped his arm around him and held him gently, turning his head to tuck his chin over the boy's crown.

Lance's hair had gotten cut today. Thace was pretty sure Coran had done it, at Lance's request. Not quite a military cut, not that short and severe, but Lance was no longer the shaggy child he'd been on the Blade base, either. It was a visual and striking reminder of how much things had changed. Thace wasn't sure he liked it, but he tried not to be resentful.

He was more concerned by the slight shiver in Lance's shoulders, the heavy way he leaned into him as if exhausted. Thace rubbed his hand up and down his arm and felt how chilled his flesh was. He hummed, letting the song rumble in his chest, and Lance turned his head to press his ear over Thace's heart, listening.

For a substantial amount of time they just sat there, leaning against each other and coming down from the emotionally taxing events of the quintent. Thace closed his eyes, relishing the opportunity to hold Lance with no eyes on them, no other needs pressing. Not that he ever let anything distract him from giving Lance a hug when he needed it, no matter how observers might stare or sigh or tap their feet, but it was still nice to be alone. 

Eventually, though, he knew he had to speak. Lance had come here for a reason, though he seemed completely unable to broach the subject himself. It was up to Thace to give him a gentle push, one more time. Maybe the last time, and Thace tried not to let the thought sadden him.

"Do you need something from me, cub?"

Lance was still for a moment, then shook his head into Thace's chest.

Thace hummed. He could tell something was going on, but he knew Lance was being honest. He always was. Something else, then, some other gentle push.

"You seemed nervous, earlier. Did something happen?"

Lance nodded, his arms tightening around Thace almost desperately tight. He was afraid. Of what? Thace didn't want to order him to tell him. He didn't want to force information from him, never again, but he was also getting increasingly worried.

"The Red Paladin came to see me before you came in," Thace said, deliberately casual.

Lance stiffened in surprise, then leaned back to look up at Thace with wide eyes. Thace was startled by the near terror in his face. What did he think Keith had done?

Thace wrapped his hands carefully around Lance's shoulders to hold him steady as he scooted back on the bed, making some space between them. "The Red Paladin...Keith... He was angry. Not at you, at me."

Lance tilted his head in confusion, but his shoulders relaxed a bit. "Why?"

Thace smiled grimly. "Because I didn't save you sooner. And truly, I'm angry at myself over that, too. I should have taken you away from the Empire much, much earlier, and I didn't."

Lance's face wrinkled, and he stared down at the floor. "But...you were obeying orders. From Kolivan. Your leader."

Thace huffed silently. That same old distinction between "obedient" and "good." He knew Lance was still struggling to understand it, but the thought of having that conversation again exhausted him.

"Just because I had orders doesn't mean they were good," he said. Lance gave him a puzzled glance, and he shook his head. At least Lance had been thoroughly distracted from his fear. "Never mind that. I think it's good that Keith was angry at me."

Lance looked even more confused. "Why?"

Thace smiled and let his hands fall away from Lance's shoulders. "Because it means that he feels protective of you. Even against me. You two had a talk and figured things out, didn't you? He's accepted you as a teammate and a friend, now. He considers you to be under his protection and his care. That's good."

"Oh." Lance looked down at his hands, fiddling with them in his lap. "Yeah, he said something about that. That's not why I came to see you, though."

"Why, then?" Thace asked, and Lance went still again, like a prey animal under the eye of a predator. Thace sighed and reached out to tip his chin up. He looked into the boy's face, his eyes simmering with fear, and tried to smile. "What are you afraid of, cub? What did you think Keith told me?"

A question. Lance couldn't help answering. "I thought he told you..." And he went quiet again, biting his lip.

Thace let his chin go and sat back. Lance was resisting telling the truth. This was important enough, terrifying enough, that Lance was trying to resist his training. Thace had told him many times that he didn't have to answer every question he was posed, but Lance still lived under the rules that had been beaten into him. That he was fighting them now, with Thace, was worrisome.

Lance took a deep breath. "I thought he told you about what he saw." He laughed shakily and swiped at his face with both hands, A few stray tears fell from his eyes, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. "Stupid, I'm so stupid. I came here to tell you, to show you, and still when I thought Keith said it already..."

Thace hunched his shoulders, consciously making himself smaller. Less like the Galra who had abused Lance in the past. "What is it, cub?" he asked softly. "What did you want to show me?"

Lance wavered for a moment more. Then he moved suddenly, almost frantically. He tore off his shirt and tossed it on the floor, then turned his back to Thace and sat there, hunched over, his arms wrapped around his stomach. He was breathing hard, and his body was trembling, but Thace also read relief in his posture. This was it. What he had been afraid of. And he'd done it.

A lump rose in Thace's throat. This brave, strong boy. He felt almost dizzy with pride, and his eyes were blurred with tears. But still, he could see what Lance had been afraid of him seeing and had finally made the choice to show him anyway. This map of suffering, this series of twisting canyons laid over the landscape of Lance's back. The remnants of his torture, still tormenting him with fear even though the physical wounds had long since healed.

Thace's hand was trembling, too, as he reached out. He laid the flat of his palm gently over the marks on Lance's upper back. He jolted at the touch, then breathed out softly and relaxed, slumping where he sat. Thace stared at his hand, so large on the cub's back, and yet he couldn't cover up all of the scars. Couldn't make them go away, no matter how desperately he wished he could.

"Is this what you wanted to show me?" Thace asked, though the answer was screamingly obvious.

Lance nodded slowly, then looked at him over his shoulder. A tear shone in his eye. "Aren't they ugly?" he asked, his voice wavering.

Thace frowned and tightened his fingers over the scarred flesh, wishing to wipe away that tremble, if nothing else. "Ugly? Some might think so, I suppose. I don't."

Lance blew out an explosive breath, his eye widening in surprise. He turned to face Thace on the bed. Thace let his hand move to his bare shoulder. He could still feel the edges of the scars with the tips of his fingers. "You don't?"

A strained whisper, disbelieving but hopeful.

Thace shook his head. "No. Not at all. You are not ugly to me, Lance. You could never be ugly. Seeing those scars... It makes me angry, yes. It makes me sad. But that's not your fault. I'm angry at the people who hurt you. I'm sad because you were hurt. But you... To me, you are beautiful, and your scars are beautiful too. They show that you are strong. You survived. So many forces tried to kill you, and you fought to live instead. That isn't ugly. That will never be ugly. Not to me, and not to anyone who knows you."

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156497099@N03/29832851648/in/dateposted-public/)

Lance sucked in a huge, cleansing breath, squeezing his eyes shut as more tears fell. Then he fell into Thace's arms and clutched him tight.

Thace held him, murmuring softly and rubbed his hands over his scarred back over and over again. He sang, and Lance sang, too, and they held each other. They both cried, Thace more than Lance. For once, Thace didn't try to hide it. Lance deserved to know the truth. 

Lance didn't seem to mind. He just snuggled into Thace's arms and laughed, not out of humor but out of joy, sometimes through tears, sometimes through lips that trembled. It went on for a long time.

Eventually, Lance began to shiver with cold, and they backed off long enough for Thace to help him back into his shirt. Lance put it on slowly and made no attempt to hide his back as he did so, for the first time. It was a small triumphant, but also a very, very large one.

"I suppose it might be easier for you to change clothes around your teammates now," Thace said with a smile, daring to tease and hoping he wasn't pushing too far.

Lance all but giggled, though, waving a hand. "I never cared if they saw. Well, not much."

Thace blinked. "Is that so? But you cared so much about me seeing..."

Lance faced him frankly, sobering now. "Yes. I cared very much. I already knew I couldn't hide those scars, not really. Kolivan saw them. Coran will see them when I get injured. I know that. I wasn't even much bothered when Keith saw them. But you..." He sighed, then brightened. "Zarkon told me you thought scars were ugly and disgusting, and I was so, so scared that it was true. But it's not. Zarkon's a liar. You told me that lots of times before, but now I know it's true, because you showed me."

Thace held out his arms again, and Lance laughed, then rushed into them. Thace held him close, and Lance held him back. 

This wasn’t the end. There was still much to mend, much to heal. But Lance was well on the way, now. He had learned to make his own choices and seek healing on his own, including doing things that he was terrified to do. Thace was going to stay on a little while longer and make sure, but he knew something now, and he knew Lance knew it too.

Lance was going to be okay. 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for coming along with me for this tale. It definitely went much longer than I expected at the beginning, and it could have gone longer still. I have a couple more one-shots I would still like to write in this universe, but for now, the story is complete. Thank you so much for reading and commenting. Your comments mean the world to me, even when I don't have the time or energy to respond. Knowing that there were people out there who enjoyed this story and wanted to find out what happened next made it easier to keep going, for sure. You are important and loved. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me at [my tumblr](http://maychorian.tumblr.com) anytime you choose. I am generally quicker at answering asks than I am at answering comments, though I love comments, I do I do. They are my life's blood.


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